


Treacherous

by idkhaylijah



Category: Supernatural, The Originals (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dean Winchester Smut, Dean Winchester/Reader Smut, Elijah Mikaelson smut, Elijah Mikaelson/Reader Smut, F/M, Jealous Dean Winchester, Jealous Elijah Mikaelson, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Elijah Mikaelson, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2019-09-23 12:15:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 46,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17080169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idkhaylijah/pseuds/idkhaylijah
Summary: Y/N has been hunting with Sam and Dean when her past comes looking for her.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> AU - no specific timeline as of right now, but post Purgatory Dean, Pre Season 5 of TO

Y/N wasn’t sure if it was his dark eyes hazed with lust, or the way he moved through the crowd with confidence when she first caught sight of him that shook her memory. She should have tapped out then, but that would be admitting that she was a liability.

She caught his attention, which had been the plan all along. The guys hated it, but even they couldn’t deny it made their jobs easier on nights like tonight.

“You come here often?” The man asked with a sinful grin. She cringed at his opening line, but played along until he bought her a drink.

When he asked for her name she shook her head and leaned in seductively. “Call me whatever you want,” she whispered, taking his hand and dragging him onto the dance floor.

It made it easier when they didn’t exchange names. Names humanized them, and that made her heart clench in her chest, because she knew deep down they weren’t all monsters. That made her mind wander to a name she couldn’t think of attached to the most kind dark eyes she refused to remember. 

All she needed to know about the man in front of her was he had dropped fourteen bodies in the last week.

She danced on him, her back to his chest and her ass pushing against him so she could scan the crowd without him noticing.

She caught sight of Sam, though he was hard to miss in any crowd. The man towered over everyone. She nodded slightly, signaling, and he nodded back before making his way to the entrance of the club.

Y/N turned in her dance partner’s arms and pressed her lips to his ear, pulling his handsome face down to the crook of her neck knowing that to him, her blood was pumping louder than the music. “Let’s get out of here,” she whispered.

He nodded and followed her as she led him out the back into the alley.

When the door shut behind them he didn’t wait, pinning her to the brick wall of the building, his hands roaming, which she didn’t particularly care for.

“Don’t scream,” he said, his chocolate eyes dilating.

She didn’t scream, but not because he had compelled her not to - the vervain in her system ensured anything she did or didn’t do was her choice. Instead, for just a moment - a fraction of a second - she let his eyes compel her for a completely different reason. She tilted her head, letting him sink his fangs into her neck.

He pulled back quickly, coughing and sputtering the blood he had pulled from her veins. “What the hell?” He grasped at his throat, which she was sure was burning from the vervain in her blood.

Suddenly a rough hand appeared on his shoulder, spinning him around. “I think you’ve had enough to drink for one night, you son of a bitch.” Dean Winchester stood, a gun pointed straight at the man in front of him.

Before the vampire could launch at him, Dean fired three wooden bullets into his chest, dropping him to the ground.

Y/N watched his veins rise to the surface, his skin going deathly grey as the life was sucked out of him. His eyes, the familiar eyes that had made her falter in a moment of weakness, went cold as the light left them, and she turned away.

“Help me load the body,” Dean said, tucking the gun into the back of his jeans. He bent, checking his pockets.

A few seconds later the familiar roar of an engine pulled to the entrance of the alley, Sam hopping out of the driver seat of the Chevy Impala and opening the trunk.

Y/N helped Dean lift the corpse, tossing it carelessly inside the trunk.

“Well that was easy,” Sam commented.

Dean slammed the trunk, shooting a glare to Y/N. “Yea,” he replied, his voice angry and rough.

She quickly wiped at her neck and tossed her Y/H/C hair over the vampire bite so Sam didn’t see. She didn’t bother acknowledging Dean’s attitude. She knew she screwed up, but that was neither here nor there. “Let’s burn this sucker and head back to the bunker.”

Sam tossed Dean the keys and the three of them loaded up into Baby. They drove off in silence, Dean never moving his eyes from the road.

*****

A few hours later, they were walking back into the bunker. Y/N tossed her duffel bag onto the table and kicked off her boots as she stretched. “No place like home,” she remarked.

Sam sighed, picking up her bag and her boots, placing them neatly by the hall entrance. “You two want to tell me what’s going on?” He asked.

Dean dropped his own duffel to the ground, finally turning his angry green eyes on Y/N. “I know I sure as shit would like to know. What the hell was that back there?”

Y/N shrugged, not wanting (or willing) to open a door she had shut a long time ago. “Nothing. I need a beer and a shower,” she pushed past the guys and made her way into the kitchen.

“Don’t walk away from me,” Dean scolded, his long strides giving him the advantage until he stood in front of her, his hand slamming the refrigerator door shut before she had it opened all the way.

“Dean?” Sam questioned from the doorway.

Dean glanced at his (not so) little brother, but his emerald eyes hardened once more when he met her Y/E/C ones. “Y/N here,” he addressed Sam as he flipped her Y/H/C hair off her shoulder, revealing her neck, “decided tonight was a good night to become a donor.”

Y/N shrugged Dean’s hand away, turning to address Sam’s concerned eyes. “It’s fine… _I’m fine_.”

“That doesn’t look fine,” Sam said, crossing the room to examine the puncture wounds.

She moved away from both of them, scrubbing at the bit of blood she hadn’t managed to get earlier with her hand. “He was quick, but I’m fine. I was about to stake him until Dean jumped in.”

“Bullshit,” Dean raised his voice. “I’ve seen you get out of more difficult situations than that. You should have dropped him the second he laid a hand on you.”

She rolled her eyes. “I made a mistake, Dean. We all make mistakes.”

“No!” He shouted. “That wasn’t a mistake, it was a _choice_. I don’t know where your head was at, but it wasn’t in that alley.”

She glared at him, her fists clenching at her side. “Don’t worry about,” she growled. “It won’t happen again.”

She stormed off before he had a chance to say another word.

Dean exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment.

“Maybe you’re being a little hard on her,” Sam suggested. “She’s right you know, we’ve all made mistakes. We learn from them, and we do better.”

Dean shook his head. “I’m telling you, Sammy. That vamp should have been child’s play for her. I’ve seen what she’s capable of. She didn’t just freeze, it was like she offered herself to him.”

Sam swallowed. “So we keep an eye on her for a few days.”

Dean dropped his shoulders in defeat, his mouth opening to argue before deciding to keep it to himself. He turned and grabbed a beer from the fridge, popping the cap off and taking a swig. “I’m going to bed.”

*****

Y/N swung at the punching bag, her fist slamming into the hard leather. Her knuckles were sore and her muscles burned, but she continued her assault.

“Whoa there,” Dean stepped in, steadying the bag for her. “You’ve been at this for hours.”

She brushed a strand of her Y/H/C away from her face, and hunched over placing her hands on her thighs as she caught her breath. She didn’t say anything to Dean as she straightened up and took up a fighting stance once more.

Her fists pounded into the bag, Dean steadying it, but no matter how hard she hit she didn’t feel any relief.

Dean stepped away, shrugging his plaid shirt off and tossing it aside.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

He stepped back in front of her, moving into a fighting stance, his fists raising and made a ‘come here’ motion with his fingers. “You wanna hit something, bring it on,” he offered.

She contemplated him for a moment, and glanced back at the bag that hadn’t offered her anything. Dean never went easy on her when they sparred, and she could use the fight to get out her pent up energy and frustration.

She looked back at Dean and nodded, taking a swing. He blocked it, pushing her back, but she changed her footing and swung around to hit him in his side.

Dean took the punch but gripped her waist as he doubled over, picking her up and dropping her onto the mat. He held his side and grinned. “Feel any better?” He asked smugly as she laid sprawled out on her back.

She slid her foot out, kicking his leg so it buckled, knocking him to the ground. She didn’t wait, righting herself once more with a cocky smirk.

Dean held his hand up so she could help him up, and she reached for it carelessly. Y/N yelped as he pulled her down, rolling so he was on top of her, pinning her to the mat.

They panted, when suddenly they both stilled realizing just how close they were. Hey eyes flickered to Dean’s lips as his mouth parted and his tongue traced over them. He moved forward, dipping his head down to meet her. They were a breath apart, and she closed her eyes softly, waiting for him to close the distance when he cleared his throat, rolling off of her.

She sat up, feeling even more frustrated than when she had entered the gym. She sighed and stood.

“What’s going on with you?” Dean asked.

She let out a laugh and walked over to grab a drink from her water bottle. As she peeled the tape from her knuckles she shrugged. “Nothing,” she said nonchalantly.

 _Except that I let a vampire bite me because he reminded me of my ex, who I haven’t seen or talked to in a year but apparently still gets under my skin, her mind offered._ She shook her head and took another sip of water. “I’m gonna hit the showers,” she said instead, dismissing herself.

She let the heat of the spray pound on her back and wash away the day. She had hoped it would wash away her past, too, but by the time she had stepped out of the shower it was still lingering.

She got dressed and when she stepped back out into the gym she stopped.

Dean was leaning against the wall across from the locker room door, his arms crossed over his chest. “Look, I get shoving stuff down, I invented it. But you’ve been off your game, and now you’re working yourself until you drop. You’ve barely eaten, you’re not sleeping….”

“I’m sleeping fine,” she sighed, frustrated that apparently he wasn’t going to let things go.

He stood and stepped into her, crowding her space and towering over her. “Your room is just down the hall from mine,” he reminded her.

She rolled her eyes. “What’s your point, Dean?”

When he said nothing for a moment she pushed past him, and he didn’t move to follow. She thought she was in the clear when his voice stopped her dead in her tracks. “Who’s Elijah?” He called after her.

Her heart stopped for just a moment before pounding relentlessly in her chest. She took deep breaths, tightening her jaw and focusing on her frustration with Dean instead of the pain in her chest that hadn’t lessened since she last saw Elijah Mikaelson.

Instead the pain had become part of her, the heartache something she had learned to live with.

“No one,” she said before heading to her room.


	2. Chapter Two

Y/N stared at the ceiling, her argument with Dean was still playing back in her head. She knew he was just looking out for her, so why did it piss her off so much?

 _Because he’s right_ , a little voice said.

She tossed in bed. So what if she wasn’t eating much, she wasn’t hungry. And yes, she worked herself into the ground, but like Dean said, she had been off her game. She’d make sure she wouldn’t slip up again.

_You’re not sleeping…_

She had no excuse for that. She was exhausted. Her body was tired, and even if Dean hadn’t been right down the hall to hear her waking up calling for Elijah, the bags under her eyes were a dead giveaway.

She would drift off here and there, but it was a restless sleep and the nightmares always ripped her from peace.

Since she had been bitten by that vampire she’d been having the same dreams.

She shook the thoughts from her head, taking a swig of the bourbon she had on her nightstand. Perhaps not the healthiest bedtime routine, but she would make due with what she had at this point.

She shut her eyes and waited for the exhaustion from the past few days to pull her under.

*****

_Y/N glanced around under the neon lights. She was in the club, everything playing out exactly as it had the last time. Only when she took the vampire out the back entrance and he bit into her neck, he pulled back and suddenly it wasn’t a bloodthirsty stranger._

_“Forgive me,” Elijah said, his thumb grazing over the wound on her neck tenderly._

_For a moment she felt peace, as though the world had righted itself before fading away. Things went quiet, and she lost herself in his warm gaze. The deep, earthy brown of his eyes then filled with regret before turning black, blood red seeping into the whites._

_“Elijah?” She said._

_He didn’t respond and he bared his fangs at her before ripping into her throat. She cried out immediately, the pain too much to bear. This wasn’t her Elijah, this was a monster._

_“Elijah!” She pounded on his chest and screamed his name but it was useless as he drained the life from her body._

_She began to feel dizzy, the world around her slipping away._

Y/N woke panting and covered in sweat. When had she fallen asleep?

She gripped at her neck desperately, checking for blood.

“Easy, easy!” Dean’s voice startled her and she lashed out, still not fully aware of her surroundings.

She caught him off guard and she got a hit in before he gripped her wrists in his hands and held her until she stopped struggling.

“Y/N calm down, it’s just me, I’ve got you.” He settled her down, letting go of her wrists and wrapping his arms around her. He smoothed out her hair and continued to whisper reassurances until her breathing steadied.

“Dean?” She finally asked.

“Yea. It’s just me,” he said again, loosening his hold on her and giving her some space.

The light from the hall spilled in through the crack of her open door, illuminating their features. Dean looked uncomfortable and she felt the heat rise to her cheeks, grateful it was still too dark for him to see her blush with embarrassment.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

Dean shook his head. “Not necessary. I just,” he gestured toward the door awkwardly. “I heard you screaming and I just thought…”

“Thank you,” she said, putting him out of his misery.

He nodded and cleared his throat, when she took him by surprise and launched herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. She gripped him, holding onto the only solid thing that was anchoring her to the real world - a world where Elijah wasn’t a monster ripping into her throat. She shuddered at the thought and Dean returned her embrace hesitantly.

He glanced down at her before resting his chin on top of her head, letting himself enjoy the feeling of her in his arms for a brief moment.

Y/N loosened her grip and looked up at him with every intention of saying goodnight, when she realized just how close they were.

Dean’s gaze was hooded, and even in the limited light she could see his eyes darkened.

The air became thick as Y/N rested her hands on his chest, Dean’s eyes never leaving her.

She leaned up on her toes, and while he didn’t advance, he also didn’t stop her. Before she could think about what she was actually doing, she inched her face towards him, her lips brushing his softly in a brief kiss.

“I should go,” he started to say, but she cut him off.

“Stay,” she whispered, surprised at the sound of her own voice.

Dean didn’t say anything for a moment, and she wondered if she had just ruined everything, but she also knew they had flirted on this line for months.

He stepped out of her reach and her heart sank at his rejection.

So she _had_ ruined everything.

She was about to apologize and tell him to forget the whole thing as he walked towards the door when he shut it, blocking out the remaining light, the room going completely black.

Their breaths were loud in the silence, and her heartbeat pounded in her ears as Dean stepped into her, his hands gripping her hips.

He pressed his forehead to hers. “Y/N…”

“I don’t want to talk, Dean,” she breathed. “I just want to forget.”

He nodded and cupped her face. “Okay,” he whispered before leaning down and kissing her.

He didn’t waste any time, pulling her shirt above her head as he walked her back towards the bed. He tossed it aside and hovered above her, his lips working over hers. He traced his tongue over her mouth, begging for entrance and when she gasped he deepened the kiss.

Y/N tugged at the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head and running her hands along his abs. She moaned at the feel of his muscles under her fingertips and arched her hips up, searching for relief.

Dean kissed down her neck and worked towards her breasts, taking his time tasting every inch of her. She let go of everything - hunting, the club, the nightmares –  _him_.

In that moment it was only Dean.

He pressed his hips into her, his hands caressing her sides sweetly, moving lower and lower but stopping when he hit her waistband.

She pushed against his shoulders until he rolled off of her, and she followed, straddling his lap. She grinded her hips into him, feeling him hard beneath her. She leaned forward, kissing him roughly, asking for more, and her Y/H/C hair created a curtain around them.

He brushed it back, away from her face, as he sat up, his touch no longer careful. He slid his hands down the back of her pants, gripping her ass and pulling her down and forward into his lap, putting pressure where she needed it most. They both groaned, and her breathing quickened.

“Dean,” she sighed into his kiss.

“Yea,” he answered gruffly.

She moved her hips once more, hating the barrier between them, and he understood what she was asking.

He lifted her, pulling her bottoms down before pulling her back into his lap and kissing her again. He reached between them, his fingers dancing over her folds, teasing her, and she threw her head back at the contact.

She pressed herself into his hand and he took the hint, inserting a finger into her. Her walls clamped down on him and she bucked into his hand when he pulled out and trailed his finger to her clit.

“Dean,” she panted. “Please,” she begged as she reached down and pushed at his sweatpants, desperate to have him.

He lifted his hips and slid them down, taking his cock in his hands and pumping it twice before lining it up at her entrance.

She tried to push down onto him, but Dean held her still. He kissed her hard for a moment before leaning back to look at her. “I don’t have a condom,” he groaned in frustration.

She shook her head. “I’m on the pill,” she reassured him before slamming down onto him. They both cried out, lost in the feel of each other.

Dean didn’t move, apart from digging his fingers into her hips and pressing his mouth just below her ear, sending shivers down her spine. He filled her completely, and she allowed herself a moment to adjust to him before she lifted up and dropped down on him once more.

He pressed his mouth along her neck, using his grip on her to set a steady pace as his hips pushed up to meet her. He groaned, his breath hot along her skin, spurring her on.

When he moved his hand between them, rolling her clit sweetly between his fingers she threw her head back and cried out, her orgasm washing over her. Dean groaned at the feeling of her walls fluttering against him and flipped them so he was above her, hitching her leg up and pushing into her slowly until she came back down.

When her muscles relaxed he began to move again, kissing her sweetly as he pumped into her, again and again.

Y/N gripped onto him, pulling him impossibly closer, quickening their pace. “More,” she begged.

In that moment he knew he’d never deny her anything, and he wondered what that meant. He pushed it aside, not willing to examine his feelings that closely, and instead focused on Y/N.

He drove into her, and he knew she was close as he listened to her noises that only encouraged him. He kissed her roughly, swallowing her moans to keep them from being overheard.

“Come baby,” he breathed against her lips.

She tossed her head back and bit her lip, meeting his thrusts and released, her vision blurring as she felt Dean pump into her a few more times before his own release filled her.

They laid like that a moment, their breaths returning to normal slowly. He kissed her again, sliding out of her before hopping out of bed.

She laid still, her body sore but her muscles relaxed, ready to doze off again when she heard him turn on the small sink in her room. The bed dipped as he knelt between her legs, using a towel to gently clean her before tossing it into the corner and sliding into bed next to her.

She briefly thought about Sam catching Dean leaving in the morning, and she knew she should tell him to go, but a part of her didn’t want to be alone again, so she said nothing.

Instead she rolled into Dean, letting him wrap his arms around her and breathed him in, the sweet smell of whiskey, leather, and something a little softer that was entirely Dean that she couldn’t quite place filled her senses until she fell into a dreamless sleep.

*****

“So get this,” Sam addressed the room from his laptop. “Six bodies, all drained of blood, and three missing persons reports in Louisiana in the last week.”

“So more vamps. Awesome.” Dean said dryly, glancing at Y/N across the room. Their encounter from last night was fresh in his mind. He had snuck out early in the morning, just narrowly missing Sam, and they hadn’t had a chance to discuss things yet.

“It’s just outside of New Orleans.”

Y/N stiffened.

“Thought we could make a trip out of it…” Sam trailed off, feeling the room.

Y/N said nothing, instead keeping her eyes trained on the book in front of her.

Dean watched her for a moment, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “Aren’t you from New Orleans, Y/N?”

“What? Yea,” she waved the guys off nonchalantly.

Sam cleared his throat. “Right, well, I thought we could go on a hunt and then spend a few days in New Orleans. Dean and I haven’t spent much time there, and we’ve got the best tour guide at our disposal. It might be good for all of us…”

Y/N shook her head, swallowing down her annoyance at being handled with kid gloves the last few days. She knew Sam had her best interest at heart, so she tried not to hold it against him, but it was beginning to wear on her. “I’ll go on a hunt, but I don’t want to go back to New Orleans.”

Dean raised his brows, shutting his laptop.

Sam jumped in before his brother could start. “Okay, we’ll hunt. Just promise me you’ll think about New Orleans.”

She shrugged. “Sure.” _Not happening_ , she thought.

“Let’s pack up,” Dean said, ready to go. He studied Y/N as she shuffled down the hall to her room. She still wasn’t right, and he wasn’t entirely sure she was ready to head back out on the road and work a job. He’d definitely be keeping her close this time around.

*****

The three hunters stood at the entrance of the club. Dean rolled his eyes. “So what, all bloodsuckers are club kids now? These aren’t vampires, they’re douchebags.”

Sam shrugged. “Easy targets I guess. Large crowds, loud music, drunk victims…”

They moved up through the line, and when they approached the front the bouncer put his hand up. “We’re full tonight, boys,” he grumbled. He wasn’t quite as tall as the Winchesters, but he was easily twice as broad.

“What do you mean you’re full?” Dean was already exhausted. They spent all day interviewing the victim’s family and friends, tracing their every footsteps, until they wound up here, in front of Las Deux, a nightclub that opened just shortly before bodies initially began dropping and people went missing. Dean hated the nightclub scene. He hated even more that local authorities were probably compelled to turn a blind eye.

“I _mean_ we are at capacity,” the bouncer elaborated.

Y/N pushed her way between them, fixing her hair and giving the bouncer a coy smile. “Bummer,” she pouted her lips. “I was really looking forward to letting go tonight.”

The bouncer stepped aside, and Y/N rewarded him with a grin as she made her way through the door.

Sam and Dean made to follow her when the bouncer blocked their path once more. “ _Capacity_ ,” he repeated.

Dean groaned and Sam nodded, pulling his brother out of line. Their phones buzzed.

 **Y/N:** _Head around back._

Dean tossed his hands up in defeat, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

*****

Shortly after, all three hunters were scouting out the club looking for their target.

Y/N worked to make her way to a private area, figuring that’s where their guy was hiding out. She snuck past a security guard, and just as she reached for the handle she was jerked back.

“Where do you think you’re going?” A security guard that made the bouncer from outside look like a small child asked.

She turned her head, confusion on her face. “Bathroom?” She asked, but the guard wasn’t buying it.

He crowded her and blocked her only exit.

_Shit._

“There you are, babe,” Dean called from down the hall. He approached quickly and took her hand when the guard stepped aside. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Y/N played along, leaning into Dean. “Let’s go dance.” She slurred.

They made their way back out to the crowd and when Dean pulled her close she startled.

“Dean?”

He spun her out playfully and pulled her back in, nuzzling into her neck. “You’ve got three sets of eyes on you right now,” he whispered. He twirled them so she could see. Sure enough, the security guard and two men from an upper balcony watched her.

She threw her head back, her hair wild as she let herself feel the music. She held onto Dean, her hands in his hair. “I didn’t know you danced,” she commented.

She wasn’t fooled by the smile he put on for their audience. “I don’t. But for you sweetheart?”

She spun in his arms, her back to him as she sunk lower to the ground and came up slow and seductively. Dean groaned, and turned her back around roughly. They stilled, their faces close as they shared a breath. “We gonna talk about the other night?” He asked.

“Keep your head in the game,” Y/N shot his words from the other day back at him playfully.

He narrowed his eyes at her and licked his lips, glancing at the crowd before turning his attention back to her. “You’ve been avoiding being alone with me,” he remarked.

“We’ve been working a job,” she pointed out.

They had been so focused on each other that they hadn’t noticed the man that had approached them until he cleared his throat.

“May I cut in?” 

The voice sent chills down Y/N’s spine and she didn’t need to turn to know exactly who stood there.

“Not tonight, buddy, why don’t you go find someone else to charm the pants off of?” Dean snapped, pulling Y/N in closer than necessary.

Y/N squirmed in his arms, pushing away from him subtly. “I could use a drink,” she suggested. “Would you mind?”

Dean raised his eyebrows at her.

“You heard the lady,” the accented voice said. “One dance, I’ll return her in one piece.” He grinned smugly.

Y/N shot Dean a look that said she had the situation under control. She was dismissing him. “It’s okay, Dean, he’s an old… _acquaintance_.”

The man chuckled. “Oh come now, love, we were family…once.”

“Excuse me?” Dean asked, confusion lacing with anger.

Y/N sighed, turning her gaze to the intruder for the first time since he approached, knowing Dean wasn’t about to walk away anytime soon. “What are you doing here, Klaus?”

*****

“Tell me you didn’t do this,” Y/N grit her teeth at Klaus.

He stood calmly, despite Dean’s overwhelming presence. Y/N wanted to scoff at the way Dean stood just a little taller than usual, his chin lifted. _Might as well piss a circle around me to mark your territory_ , she thought.

“I don’t know what you mean?” Klaus asked innocently.

She jabbed her finger in his chest and Dean stepped forward, placing a hand on her hip - ready to hold her back. “Did you drop those bodies?” She growled.

Dean’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry, what the hell is going on here?”

Klaus shrugged. “So quick to accuse me. Do you think so low of me?”

“Did you compel someone to do it?” She hissed, her blood boiling.

Dean reached for the stake in the back of his jeans and Klaus finally turned his eyes to the hunter. “I wouldn’t if I were you,” he warned.

Dean tightened his jaw and kept his grip on the weapon while glancing around the room.

“I needed your attention,” Klaus said to Y/N.

“Well you’ve got it,” she snapped.

“Y/N? Dean?” Sam approached, his eyes catching the scene from across the room and immediately picking up on the defensiveness in Dean’s stance.

Y/N was too blindsided, too shook up to address the guys. Her entire focus was on the piece of her past that was standing right in front of her. “What do you want?”

Klaus glanced at Sam, eyeing him up before turning his focus back to Y/N. “It seems my siblings and I have quite the problem your new… _expertise_ ,” he looked at the Winchesters. “…could help with.” He stated, the smug facade falling from his features.

She shook her head slightly. “I can’t,” she barely got the words out, but she knew even with the music and the crowd Klaus heard her.

“Y/N, I’m running out of time and options,” she was surprised and unnerved at the desperation in his voice.

“And I’m sorry to hear that,” she replied. “But I can’t go back, Klaus.” She turned to walk away when he called after her.

“He needs you!”

She turned and marched straight back, her nose practically touching Klaus’ as she put her foot down. “I said I _can’t_!”

His stare hardened and he cleared his throat, storming away.

“What the hell was that?” Dean growled at her.

Sam glanced at Klaus before looking between the two hunters. “Y/N? What’s going on?”

The music cut off suddenly, the crowd falling silent, as Klaus stepped up onto the bar. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he addressed the room. “Please line up along the wall,” he ordered.

The entire room shuffled, clearing the dance floor and leaving Y/N, Dean and Sam in the center.

“Did he just compel all of these people?” Sam asked incredulously. He had never seen a vampire with powers that strong, the very thought putting him on edge.

“They’ve been compelled since they came in here,” Y/N looked around nervously. “Klaus!” She shouted. “Don’t do this!”

Dean pulled out the stake and held it tightly in his grip, squaring off his shoulders, ready to fight.

“You there,” Klaus pointed to a girl, no older than twenty-one or twenty-two. He crooked his finger in a come hither motion and she obeyed. Klaus bit into his palm and held it out to her. “Drink,” he demanded.

She did it without question and Dean rushed forward, stake aimed. Klaus moved quickly, snapping the girls neck and dropping her to the floor.

“Dean, no!” Y/N called, but it was too late - he used all of his force to shove the stake through Klaus’ back, the tip protruding out of his chest, piercing him right through the heart.

“Not so tough now, are you, asshat?” He taunted as Klaus screamed in agony.

Klaus turned slowly, his eyes shifting to gold as he growled at Dean and pulled the stake through the rest of the way. He roared as he ripped the wood from his body, snapping it in half and tossing it aside.

Dean’s eyes went wide in shock. He was so sure he had hit his heart, so why wasn’t he dying?

Klaus huffed, grabbing Dean by the throat and lifting so his toes searched desperately for the ground beneath them. “I’ve killed people for far less.”

Sam moved to his brothers aid, but Y/N ran and pulled him back. “Don’t,” she hissed. “You’ll only make it worse.”

Sam looked between the two, trusting Y/N but ready for a fight.

“Klaus! Let him go!” She cried.

He smirked at Y/N and loosened his grip ever so slightly. “You live because you are of use to me,” he stated, tossing Dean to the floor.

Klaus grabbed a young man from the crowd, leading him to the body of the girl. “When she wakes up, I want you to take this,” he grabbed an empty beer bottle from the bar. “Smash it and use a sharp edge to cut into your wrist and let her drink you dry.”

The man nodded, taking the bottle and sitting next to the girl, waiting.

“Stop it,” Y/N begged.

Klaus held his arms up. “I’ll stop as soon as you three agree to help me,” he said.

She bit her lip. “Klaus, you don’t understand, I can’t.” Her eyes burned and she was on the edge - rage, sorrow, regret, guilt…she felt as if her body was too small to contain it all.

A group of vampires moved their way into the room from the balcony above where they had been watching the scene, curiosity and a roomful of walking blood bags at their disposal enticing them.

Klaus picked up a piece of the stake from the floor. “Fine, perhaps if I do you a favor first, you’ll be more inclined to oblige.” He marched over to the vampires and held his hand up to stop their approach.

He pulled one vampire from the crowd. “This is the one that has been dropping your bodies, and I didn’t even have to compel him to do it,” Klaus sighed and handed him the splintered wood. “Take this and drive it through your heart,” he said to the vampire.

The vampire’s eyes flooded with fear. Y/N knew he had deserved it - he was a monster, and that’s what they had come here to do. But watching his shaky hand take the stake, his mind totally aware of what he was about to do but his body being unable to stop it felt cruel.

He pointed the wood to his chest, and cried in agony as he drove it in slowly until it pierced his heart.

His companions all watched in disbelief, before turning bloodthirsty eyes on Klaus, hissing as their fangs protruded. Klaus rolled his eyes, ready to rip their hearts out if they pounced. A young vampire stepped forward, rushing to the desiccated body and dropping to her knees, cradling him in her arms, and Y/N felt pity for her.

The girl turned her angry eyes up to Klaus, and stood, lunging with her teeth. Klaus caught her by the throat and pulled her in, biting her throat. He held her up, his chin dripping with blood and his eyes dangerous. She clawed at his arm until her body went limp as she desiccated right there.

Y/N furrowed her brows. She had seen vampires die from the werewolf venom in Klaus’ bite, but never that quickly.

Klaus tilted his head with curiosity and Sam and Dean looked confused, when suddenly all of the vampires dropped - their skin sickly grey, their bodies lifeless.

“Dude, not that I’m complaining we’ve got a room full of dead vamps,” Dean muttered to Sam. “But what the hell just happened?”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t know…”

Y/N knew. She pressed her hand to her mouth in shock.

Klaus dropped the body and his features returned to normal, sorrow and worry filling his gaze as he turned to look at Y/N.

“An entire sire line just died off,” Klaus muttered.

“How?” Dean snapped, his frustration growing by the second.

Sam shifted his weight, moving toward the bodies to examine them. Apart from the fact they were vampires, they seemed to have died of “natural” causes. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” he muttered.

“I have,” Y/N whispered.

“When my brothers, Kol and Finn, died.”

She met Klaus’ stare, and his eyes brimmed with tears. She shook her head in disbelief and took a step toward Klaus, suddenly needing to be near him.

Klaus moved at lightning speed toward Y/N and in an instant they were gone.

Dean roared, slamming down on the bar top. “Son of a bitch!” He yelled.

“Dean!” Sam held his phone up, the tracking app he had insisted they all install up, Y/N’s dot moving rapidly.

Dean nodded and looked around the room anxiously, unsure what to do with the bodies, the humans, any of it.

The sound of wings flapping filled the room. “What happened?”

Dean turned to find Castiel, and he scowled. “Hell if I know,” he sighed. “Where have you been?”

Cas took in the scene before him. “It’s complicated…” he trailed off. “Where’s Y/N?”

“Gone,” Sam said quietly, continuing to watch her dot move on the map.

Cas glanced around once more. “Go,” he said. “I’ll clean things up here and come find you.”

Dean nodded. “Let’s go,” he stated, already heading to the car, Sam right behind him.


	3. Chapter Three

The car was barely stopped before Y/N was opening her door and barreling out. She ran into the courtyard of the Abbatoir as quickly as her feet would carry her.

"Elijah!" She called out in a panic, but she was met with silence.

She followed Klaus quickly to Elijah's room, taking the stairs two at a time. When she was in the doorway she stopped and saw Freya standing over the bed, her eyes red rimmed.

"What happened?" Klaus demanded.

Freya shook her head. "I don't know..."

"What do you mean you don't know?" He shouted.

Freya squared her shoulders and faced her brother, anger below her grief. "I did everything I could," she stated, guilt sitting heavily on her shoulders knowing it hadn't been enough.

Y/N moved hesitantly into the room, as if her body was unwilling to take her any closer. She heard her own breathing, her blood pounding in her ears. She knew Klaus and Freya were talking, arguing even, but it was as though her entire world began to fade away - like she was underwater and couldn't make out anything above the surface.

When she moved around Klaus to see his face, she felt her heart stop and the air get sucked out of her lungs.

Elijah Mikaelson was laid out on top of the bedspread in a suit, his eyes closed, his body drained of life. His hands were crossed carefully at his waist.

She moved next to the bed, her mind refusing to process anything she was seeing. Slowly and carefully she reached out, her fingertips grazing the cuff of his jacket, as though touching him would make it all too real.

"Elijah?" She choked through a sob. She gripped his hand, his skin ice cold. "Elijah, no," she cried as she began to shake him. "Stay with me, I'm here..."

Klaus watched in sorrow as Y/N broke down. A thousand years, dozens of lifetime's worth of experience and he still had no way to fix the scene in front of him. Not for Y/N, not for his sister, certainly not for himself.

Y/N reached into her boot, pulling out a small knife and slicing into her palm. She hopped up onto the bed and cradled Elijah's head in her lap, placing her open wound to his lips. "Come on," she pleaded, trying to get him to drink. "Elijah, wake up..."

He didn't move, her blood smearing on his cold lips. "You can't stay here, love," Klaus whispered, a teardrop rolling down his cheek. Y/N ignored him and prayed desperately to Castiel, hoping he could fix it, but there was no answer.

She cradled him for a long time, ignoring Klaus and Freya's pleading with her. When they left the room she moved so she could lay next to him, burying her sobs in his jacket.

She didn't know how long she laid there, but Klaus and Freya entered the room again. Klaus stood by her, brushing her hair back and she flinched away. "Y/N," he whispered, pulling her from Elijah's body, off the bed.

She screamed, fighting Klaus' grip on her before turning and pounding on his chest. "What did you do!?" She yelled.

Klaus clenched his jaw and took her hits, bringing his hands up to her arms to hold her still, cradling her to his chest. Y/N collapsed into him, too exhausted to keep up the fight as her body shook with sobs. "No," she whimpered. "He's not gone...he can't be gone."

"I know, sweetheart," Klaus whispered into her hair, but his words brought her no comfort. He looked to his older sister, pleading with her to say something - to _do_ something. _Anything_.

Freya shook her head, wiping at the smudged mascara beneath her eyes before crossing her arms and looking away. Her phone rang and she reached into her back pocket, pulling it out to reveal Rebekah's contact. She answered and said nothing.

"Freya? Tell me our brothers are safe..." Rebekah's voice was strained as Klaus listened in on the conversation.

Freya bit her lip and sniffed, holding back her tears. "It's Elijah..." she managed in a strangled voice.

There was silence for a moment, and Klaus knew his baby sister well enough to know she was breaking.

"Rebekah," Freya spoke, her voice determined. "I _will_ fix this."

It was the first thing anyone said since Y/N had watched Elijah's sire line drop that she felt like she could hold onto. She took a breath and lifted her head, meeting Freya's eyes, her sorrow turning to hope. Y/N stopped crying at the promise in Freya's words, determination filling the cracks and crevices of her broken heart. 

She was going to get Elijah back.

*****

"It's not that simple, we can't just march into Purgatory," Freya sighed. She and Klaus had been bickering for the better part of an hour, looking for spells and loopholes. "First of all, we don't even know for sure that he's in there. And a spell like that..."

"Can surely be found in one of mother's grimoires!" Klaus bellowed.

Freya nodded. "Yes, but it will be a difficult spell. I would need to channel you, and he can't just walk out on his own. We'd need a way to smuggle him out with a human."

"I'll go," Y/N volunteered.

Freya looked at Y/N, taking in her resolve, knowing there was no way to talk her out of it. She nodded and exhaled. "I'll start looking through mother's spellbooks." She began to walk away, but not before stopping and pulling Y/N in for a hug. "It's good to see you," she whispered.

Y/N nodded, but said nothing, wishing it was under better circumstances. Freya pulled back, studying her expression. "We'll fix this, Y/N, I promise."

*****

Y/N stood in the foyer, a circle of salt on the floor. She watched as Klaus carefully placed his brother down in the center. "Now what?" She asked.

Freya stepped into the room, books in hand, her heeled boots clicking against the floor with purpose. "I need the blood of someone that's already been to Purgatory," she sighed. "This spell is impossible."

Y/N stiffened at her words and Klaus smirked. "Well, then it's a good thing Dean Winchester and his brother are lurking just outside," he said, turning his head to listen to them. They were currently discussing a plan of action, a way to rescue Y/N.

Klaus was gone before Y/N could react, and back just as quickly, tossing the Winchesters at his feet as though they were nothing.

They groaned and Sam stood slowly, turning to help his brother up. Dean glanced around the room and when he spotted Y/N he rushed over, his hands cupping her face as he looked her over, taking inventory. "Hey, are you good?"

Sam kept his stance facing Klaus, a stake in his hand, knowing it'd do no good, but unwilling to turn his back to him while Dean helped Y/N.

Y/N nodded, pulling Dean's hands down to his side. "I'm fine," she whispered.

He took in her disheveled appearance and her red eyes. Her makeup was smudged and her skin blotted. "You don't look fine," he said, his voice low and laced with anger at the thought of anyone hurting her.

She bit her lip and shook her head, glancing at Elijah's body quickly, but it wasn't lost on Dean and he turned to see what had shifted her focus for a moment. "Does someone want to explain to me what the hell is going on?" He demanded.

"Dean..." Y/N began, but Klaus cut her off.

"You've arrived just in time," he said. "I believe official introductions are in order. Klaus Mikaelson," he introduced himself. "Perhaps you've heard of me?"

Sam's eyes widened. "Klaus like _Niklaus_ Mikaelson? As in the original vampire?"

Klaus smiled smugly. "Hybrid, actually, but yes."

"What do you mean _original hybrid_?" Dean asked incredulously.

Sam couldn't believe it. Even in his line of work, with everything he had seen, he was shocked. "There were legends of how the vampire species came to be," Sam explained. "I always thought it was just that, though...a legend. It all stemmed back to the Original family - the very first vampires created by their mother, the Original Witch..."

"Yes, yes," Klaus rolled his eyes. "I was there, let's not bore anyone with the details. I can't be killed. Neither can my siblings," he frowned and glanced at Elijah. "Or so I thought. Which is where you come in," he pointed to Dean.

"I'm sorry, what?" Dean was getting more and more confused by the moment, his frustration growing.

"I've heard tales of the Winchesters. You've been to hell and back, literally. You fought your way back from Purgatory, and you're on a first name basis with Death..." Klaus rattled off. "Quite impressive."

Dean shrugged smugly. "I killed Hitler, too," he added with a prideful smirk, his face turning serious again at Y/N and Sam's disapproving looks at his boasting.

"Let's make this easy then, shall we? I need you to use your... _connections_...with Death. You've talked your way out on more than one occasion, perhaps you can call in one last favor."

Dean shook his head. "Ain't gonna happen, buddy. I killed Death."

Klaus looked surprised for a moment before his stare turned angry. "Then we'll do it the hard way. I need your blood. You'll go to Purgatory yourself and retrieve my brother," he said absolutely.

Dean was about to argue when Freya, who had been pouring over any information, any spell she could use to her advantage spoke up. "It's a little more complicated than that."

*****

"So let me get this straight," Dean said, still trying to process everything he had heard in the last hour. "You want me to just march back into Purgatory, pull this bloodsucker out of his own mental maze, through Purgatory and back into the real world?"

"I'll go," Y/N stated once more. 

Dean, Sam and Klaus all turned to her and gave her a final, definitive "No!" in unison.

Freya ignored them and shook her head. "You can't be in Elijah's head and Purgatory at the same time," she explained to Dean.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. "But Elijah's in both?"

Freya nodded. "More or less. My brother has a tendency to hide the things he doesn't want to face behind a red door."

"In Purgatory?" Sam asked.

"In his mind. It's like he's sectioned off pieces of himself," she explained. "Every moment, every memory, all compartmentalized. Everything he didn't want to deal with he placed behind the red door, never to be opened. That's where Elijah's trapped."

"But he's in Purgatory?" Y/N was confused, but hopeful they could still reach him.

"He's in Purgatory, but he's not himself. If we want _our_ Elijah back, we have to pull him back from his own prison first."

"So how do we do that?" Y/N asked.

Freya sighed. "Purgatory will be the easy part," she muttered. "I've created a linking spell," she pointed toward Elijah's body, the ritual already prepared. "One of us has to link to him, and I can pull you out after you've found him." Freya took a deep breath and held it in her lungs a moment before exhaling a sigh. "Anything that happens in there will be  _permanent_ ," she stressed.

"As in you die in there, you die out here?" Dean asked and Freya nodded. "Got it. So Klaus can't die, we send him to fetch your brother."

"I'll need Klaus here so I can channel his power for the linking spell, and opening the door to Purgatory," she explained.

Sam nodded. "I'll go," he said quietly, glancing at Y/N.

Freya nodded and as Sam stepped forward Y/N placed her hand on his chest, stopping him.

"No," she said. "Our best chance of getting him back is with someone he knows, someone he wouldn't hurt," she said.

Freya looked down for a moment and cleared her throat. "Y/N, he may not be the Elijah you know in there," she warned.

Y/N nodded. "All the more reason I should be the one to do it."

Dean grabbed her arm. "I'm sorry," he addressed the room. "We just need a minute here," he led Y/N out of the room into the courtyard.

When he hoped they were out of earshot he rounded on her, his green eyes burning with anger. "What the hell are we doing here, Y/N? You want to explain to me why we are risking our lives to bring a bloodsucker back from the dead?"

She glanced away, biting her lip.

Dean sighed. "Elijah was never just a friend, was he?"

She shook her head, unsure of what to say.

Dean nodded. "You sure you know what you're doing here?"

"I know him," she said confidently. "I'll be fine."

He clenched his jaw for a minute, turning away from her.

"Dean, you don't owe me anything," she said, letting him off the hook. "I know Purgatory isn't something you like to talk about, and I understand if you need to walk away from this, but I can't."

He ran his hands through his hair and turned around. There it was, the clench in his chest that refused to deny her anything. He sighed, wishing he knew how to shut it off, but even the thought of Purgatory wasn't enough for him to say no and disappoint her. He placed his hand on her face. "I'm not walking away."

She swallowed nervously, not missing the double meaning of his words.

"If you two are finished we can get started," Klaus interrupted, his patience waning.

Y/N cleared her throat, walking past Klaus back into the foyer. Dean moved to follow when Klaus stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"I don't know what your intentions are with Y/N," Klaus said moving in front of him. Dean stood with confidence, but Klaus wasn't intimidated in the least. "She may not be with my brother now, but take it from me - a love like that never dies."

Dean glared at the hybrid, his eyes narrowing. He said nothing, taking his hand off his chest and walking past him, back to the group. Try as he might, he couldn't shake Klaus' words.

*****

Y/N laid down next to Elijah's body in the circle, crossing her hands over her chest.

Freya knelt next to her placing a crystal in the center. "You're sure about this?" She asked Y/N one last time.

Y/N took a deep breath and nodded.

Freya stood, stepping out of the circle and grasping Klaus' hand as she began to chant. Candles ignited around the circle, and Y/N's eyes closed when the flames kicked up even higher.

*****

_Y/N opened her eyes, blinking at the brightness of the room. Her vision adjusted and she stood in a pristine white hallway, doors lining the walls._

_Elijah's mental maze - she had heard about it, something he wasn't too keen on discussing, but Kol had filled her in once, much to Elijah's dismay, and she had witnessed first hand the aftermath of this place._

_She glanced at the end of the hallway, a red door._

_That's where she'd find him._

_She walked at a quick pace, and when she reached for the handle she paused, pressing her hand against the wood._

_Here goes nothing, she thought as she used her shoulder to push it open._

_She stepped through into a dark forest, fog clinging low to the ground, the moonlight spilling through the trees._

_It was eerily quiet, and she jumped at the twig that snapped under her boot, hyper aware of everything around her._

_She walked further in, unsure where she'd find Elijah, but instinctively knowing he was near._

_Part of her wanted to call out for him, but her gut told her it was a bad idea._

_She caught sight of a graveyard and recognized it._

_She was in Mystic Falls._

_She stopped in her tracks, hearing a blood-curdling scream. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she ran towards the cry._

_She ran until she saw a limp form lying on the ground and she glanced around, checking her surroundings before rushing over and dropping to her knees next to the body._

_A girl. Her hair covered her face, blood pooling at her neck. Her throat had been gruesomly ripped out. Y/N moved the hair from the girls face, and fell back as she gasped._

_"Elena?" She shook her head, already knowing her friend was safe and sound in the real Mystic Falls. This wasn't Elena. "Tatia," she realized._

_A branch snapped and she stood up, following the sound despite every instinct in her body telling her to run the opposite direction._

_Suddenly she wasn't in Mystic Falls anymore, the water rushing under a familiar bridge in the distance. New Orleans - she was home._

_She saw two figures on the bridge, and recognized the familiar forms of Klaus and Marcel. She approached cautiously, unsure of what this was. A memory?_

_Elijah stepped onto the bridge, and her breath caught in her chest._

_He was devastatingly handsome, even in the distance, making her heart ache._

_Her Elijah._

_They appeared to be talking, when suddenly Elijah appeared behind Marcel, ripping his heart from his chest and causing Y/N to gasp in shock._

_Her eyes burned and a tear fell as she watched Marcel's body drop into the river below._

_Surely this was a dream. Marcel was a friend, he had been like a brother, a son even, to the Mikaelsons. Elijah would never._

_She called out to him, needing an explanation, needing to be told that she didn't just witness her friend's death at Elijah's hand, but when he turned toward her voice he looked past her. He faded away before her, the bridge gone with it._

_Another branch snapped and she turned, chasing the noise further into the forest. The trees were thick and as she ran she caught her foot and tripped._

_She shot back quickly when she realized she hadn't hit the ground, but a body._

_There were bodies everywhere._

_Piles of corpses._

_She stood up and screamed when she felt a hand grab her arm and spin her around. Her heart pounded quickly, but she calmed when Elijah's deep brown eyes stared back at her._

_"Elijah?" His hair was longer, his clothing primitive. He didn't respond to her, but she knew this wasn't some dream version that would fade away._

_She reached out hesitantly, and his eyes followed her hand, but he didn't move. She traced the tips of her fingers on his cheek carefully, before placing her palm along his jaw. "Elijah," she whispered._

_He stepped into her and placed his hand on her wrist. For a brief moment she thought he was going to kiss her, when instead he tightened his hold on her, crushing her wrist until the bone snapped. She cried out and he shoved her harshly to the ground._

_"Elijah! Wake up, it's me!" She shouted desperately._

_He bent and gripped her by the neck, picking her up and slamming her against a tree, her back throbbing at the contact._

_She gripped his arm, kicking her legs out, but as hard as she fought it did nothing to him. She struggled to breathe and her vision began to spot, the edges going dark._

*****

"Dean," Sam smacked his brother's chest with the back of his hand, catching his attention and pointing to Y/N's wrist.

She was laid out in the circle, as if she were sleeping, when her wrist began to bruise. Her skin purpled and Dean set his jaw, pulling his brows together. "What the hell is that?" He asked.

Freya paused her chanting and when she saw the bruising she glanced at Klaus, concern in her eyes.

"Is he doing this to her?" Dean asked, his voice seething with anger.

They all snapped their eyes toward her when they heard the unmistakable sound of a bone cracking. "Put me in there," Dean growled, stepping into the circle and laying down on the other side of Y/N.

Freya nodded, and Dean looked at Y/N once more, worry and rage filling him when he saw the bruising begin to appear at her neck.


	4. Chapter Four

_“Elijah, please,” Y/N choked, slamming on the Original’s forearm, attempting to break the iron hold he had on her throat. Her eyes watered and her vision spotted._

_Struggling was useless, so instead she dropped her hand, feeling wildly at the tree until she caught a small branch. She mustered all the strength she had left, snapping it off before shoving it into Elijah’s heart._

_His grip loosened and he stumbled back, dropping to his knees. He held onto the branch, but before he could pull it out, he dropped, desiccating before her eyes._

_Y/N dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. She got her footing quickly and held her broken wrist to her chest as she booked it. Her muscles protested beneath her, but she didn’t look back and she never stopped running._

_“Freya!” She screamed, her voice hoarse. She prayed the witch would hear her and pull her out before it was too late._

_In all the years she had spent in the supernatural world, in all of the horrors she witnessed while she was wrapped up in Elijah’s world, the hunts she had done with the Winchesters - she had never felt terror grip her the way it had in that moment._

_She saw a clearing ahead, a small building. A neon open sign flickering in the distance - a diner._

_She glanced over her shoulder for just a moment, and slammed into a hard body. Before she could scream her mouth was covered, terror filling her eyes until she focused on the face in front of her._

_Dean._

_Her brows furrowed in confusion, but he shook his head, pressing his finger to his lips warning her to be quiet._

_She nodded and he dropped his hand from her mouth. She reached down and intertwined her fingers with his, pulling him towards the diner._

_When they were inside she locked the door, knowing it wouldn’t keep Elijah out, but it gave her a false sense of security._

_“What are you doing here?” She hissed clutching her bad arm to her chest._

_“Just thought I’d grab a slice of pie,” Dean said sarcastically as he searched the dining area. “You looked like you could use some help,” he clarified when he didn’t get a response. He found a wooden broom, taking it and snapping it over his knee and then breaking off the brush. It wasn’t particularly sharp, but with enough force it would do. He placed the two makeshift stakes down gently, keeping them close._

_He shrugged his coat off before stripping his plaid shirt from his body and using it to wrap around Y/N’s wrist, creating a sling. She winced when he touched it, but she’d had worse. Dean put his coat back on and looked at her, his hand coming up to touch her neck gently. She bit her lip at the contact, the skin tender beneath his fingers. “I’ll kill the son of a bitch,” he growled._

_Y/N stepped out of his hold. “I’m fine, he doesn’t know where he is, he didn’t recognize me.” When she said it outloud she realized that had hurt more than anything else. Bruises and bones would heal, but the lack of recognition, the lack of warmth in his eyes…the lack of love…that would haunt her._

_She picked up one of the sticks, and glanced around, suddenly recognizing the diner. She was in another memory._

_She looked at the door to the kitchen, the lights flickering in the round window, and the color in her face drained._

_Dean followed the direction of her gaze when he saw her face fall, and he gripped a piece of the broomstick tightly as he moved cautiously toward the door._

_“Don’t,” she pleaded, but it was too late._

_Dean had kicked the swinging door open and she knew what he must have found when he stepped inside._

_It was what she had found all those years ago when Rebekah called her, worried about her big brother._

_Complete carnage._

_She didn’t need to look, she had remembered it vividly. Elijah had been paranoid, and desperate to keep his niece safe. His paranoia and desperation led him to slaughter every last soul in the diner as he waited for his sister._

_Y/N had been the one to piece Elijah back together after his mental snap - the first time the red door had haunted him._

_She hated that this was the side of Elijah that Dean would see._

_Dean stepped back out into the dining area, a look of disappointment on his face. “This is worth saving to you?” He asked in disbelief._

_She said nothing for a long moment, taking a deep breath and holding it in her lungs for a second. When she exhaled she still had no words. “Dean,” she started._

_“Save it.” He cut her off, and rightfully so. There was no defending any of it. She knew it was wrong._

_Elijah was a monster._

_And yet she had loved him in spite of it. Maybe even because of it. The fact that she was standing there now, trying to pull him back, spoke volumes of her feelings for him and she tried not to examine it too closely._

_She knew deep down she would always love him._

_Maybe that made her a monster, too._

_She turned quickly at a sudden noise, the air whooshing around her before she heard it again in another direction._

_“Dean,” her voice shook. She glanced over at him and he stood in a fighting stance, his knuckles white around the broomstick. “Run,” she yelled._

_Before either of them could move Elijah was before her. He looked at her, and for the briefest of moments she thought he recognized her._

_Until Dean charged at him, and Elijah’s eyes went dark. His fangs came out, and he turned, tossing Dean back into the wall behind the counter, knocking him unconscious._

_Elijah turned his attention back on Y/N, fangs bared like a beast as he pushed her back into a wall, disarming her with ease._

_She screamed and cried out his name, desperate for him to come to his senses._

_Elijah reared his head back before sinking his fangs into her neck and she cried, the pain sharp. He began pulling her blood in greedy mouthfuls. She called his name over and over, her fist hitting his shoulder repeatedly until she began to tire from the blood loss._

_This had been her nightmare. Except this time she wouldn’t wake up._

_“‘Lij, please,” she whispered and suddenly he stopped._

_He kept his face tucked into her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin. His hands, which had been gripping her shoulders tightly, loosened and moved up to feel the bite mark gently._

_Tenderly._

_He pulled back, his mouth and chin covered in blood. His eyes had gone from a bloodthirsty hunger to the warm earthy brown she knew. Regret filled them immediately, guilt threatening to overwhelm him. “Y/N?” He reached up for her face._

_She winced, turning her head away from him and slamming her eyes shut, her breathing coming in short pants._

_He stepped back, alarmed at her reaction._

_She was afraid of him._

_When he looked around he understood, she had every right to be. She should be. She had seen him for what he really was._

_Dean groaned groggily, pulling their attention. Y/N ran to him, helping him up._

_“You okay?” He asked._

No _, she thought. “I’m fine. Let’s get out of here,” she mumbled instead._

_Elijah stepped forward, his eyes full or sorrow._

_“Don’t,” she snapped as she could see him searching for words._

_Elijah respected her wishes for the moment, swallowing his apology. It wouldn’t be enough anyway. Instead he pulled a napkin from the counter, handing it to Y/N, not meeting her eyes._

_She took it begrudgingly, pressing it to her neck. Dean brushed her hair aside and pulled her hand away to examine when he saw the bite marks._

_She shook him off and he rounded on Elijah. “What the hell did you do?”_

_Elijah said nothing, his jaw set firmly as he narrowed his eyes at the man in front of him. He took in his tall stature and brave stance. He glanced at Y/N once more. “This way,” he said leading them out of the diner and back through the woods._

_They said nothing, walking in awkward silence. Dean placed himself in front of Y/N, watching Elijah’s back warily, ready to fight him off if it came to it. Y/N knew she didn’t need protection, Elijah wouldn’t hurt her now, but she took the space anyway, not wanting to be close to him._

_When they reached the door, Elijah held it open. Dean placed his hand on the small of Y/N’s back, leading her through first, the gesture not lost on Elijah._

_Y/N stepped back into the bright hallway, turning to see Dean step through next._

_“Hey, you okay?” He asked, placing a hand on her cheek gently._

_She nodded. “Go back,” she said. “I’ll be right behind you.”_

_He dropped his hand, frustration on his features, but he nodded. He turned to find Elijah standing there, his appearance no longer animalistic. His face was clean. The long hair was gone, instead it was short and perfectly styled. He wore a pristine suit, and he was watching their exchange with interest. Dean turned his lips up smugly, his eyes glaring. A warning._

_Elijah stood his ground, a hand in his pocket, meeting the hunter’s gaze._

_“Dean,” Y/N said._

_She was asking him to leave. The hunter sighed and nodded, stepping through the doorway at the end of the hall with one last look at Y/N._

*****

Dean opened his eyes suddenly, sitting up slowly and turned to look at Y/N.

“Dean!” Sam said, rushing to help his brother up. “Where’s Y/N?”

Dean turned his attention to Freya, chanting frantically, as if she was using all the strength she had left to hold on.

“She was right behind me,” he said. “Come on,” he muttered under his breath, waiting for her to open her eyes.

*****

_Elijah stepped forward and Y/N stepped back instinctively. He paused, his eyes tearing at the thought of hurting her, that he had made her afraid._

_“Forgive me,” he whispered._

_She bit her lip and looked down at the floor, the toe of her shoe pressing into it._

_He moved toward her slowly. “Y/N, I’m sorry,” he wanted to take it all back. Why had she come here? He reached out tentatively, placing his hand on her face, where the hunter had touched her moments ago._

_Where she had leaned into Dean, she pulled away from Elijah. “I can’t,” she said shaking her head. “Not yet.”_

_He nodded and dropped his hand, his eyes burning._

_She met his gaze then and his heart stopped. He hated that he didn’t know how to comfort her, how to protect her. That his instinct was to hold her close and never let go, while hers told her to run._

_“You’re in Purgatory, Elijah,” she said._

_He nodded. He remembered._

_“Dean,” she gestured toward the door the hunter had disappeared through. “He’s going to get you back. Bring you home.”_

_He nodded again. “And you?”_

_“I’ll be on the other side, waiting…” she swallowed. “Waiting for Dean,” she finished._

_Her words twisted like a knife in his gut._

_“Elijah,” she began, but he shook his head._

_“You have to go,” he whispered._

_She nodded then, and walked down the hall. He watched her go, and when she turned to look at him one last time his heart sank. She opened the door, stepped through, and Elijah was left completely and utterly alone._

*****

Y/N woke, her eyes damp with tears. She groaned at the pain in her neck and wrist, and Dean and Sam rushed to help her up.

Freya’s chanting stopped and she released Klaus, who moved to Y/N’s side immediately. He wasted no time, biting into his hand and holding the wound out to Y/N.

“No,” Dean snarled, pushing Klaus’ offered blood away.

Klaus ignored Dean, his eyes trained on Y/N.

She weighed her options for a moment and Dean knew she was considering taking the hybrid’s blood to relieve her pain. He shook his head. “No, we’ll get Cas here,” he said, his tone final. He didn’t trust Klaus not to turn Y/N if he took another temper tantrum while his blood was in her system.

She nodded, too tired to fight, and let Sam help her to a nearby couch.

Freya and Klaus muttered to themselves, discussing opening the door to Purgatory when Dean interrupted.

“Yea, about that,” he said defiantly. “Not happening.”

Y/N’s eyes shot up to Dean, confusion on her face, while Klaus glared at the hunter with anger. Freya nodded, her own features sad.

“Perhaps I was mistaken in letting you believe you had a choice,” Klaus said.

“I saw what that sick son of a bitch is capable of, what he’s done, and I’m not marching back into Purgatory to bring him back. Let him rot.”

“Dean,” Sam interjected, trying to keep the peace as always.

Y/N shot up, her temper flaring as she began to panic at the thought of Elijah stuck in Purgatory. “We can’t just leave him there,” she argued.

He turned to look at her, expecting to find it difficult to tell her no, to deny her anything, but all he could see were the bodies Elijah had left in his wake. “No,” he said with finality. “You pulled him from his mental prison, if they want Elijah back, they can do it themselves. We are done. We go home, _now_.”

Y/N’s eyes burned. She couldn’t make Dean do anything, and she wouldn’t beg him. She knew she was asking too much, but she also knew if Dean walked, it changed nothing for her - she stayed. “I already told you, I can’t walk away from this,” she whispered.

Even after everything that happened, everything she had seen, she wouldn’t abandon Elijah. She couldn’t.

Sam stood and steadied Y/N, who began to sway slightly. “Maybe we should get you patched up, sleep on it, and discuss it in the morning,” he suggested.

Klaus rolled his eyes, and in a flash stood in front of Y/N and Sam, biting into his hand once more. Y/N anticipated being force fed his blood, but instead he forced Sam down to his knees, pulling his head back and shoving his hand to his mouth until Sam had no choice but to swallow.

“Or maybe you should do as you’re told or your brother here will join mine,” Klaus threatened, ignoring Y/N’s pleas.

Dean gritted his teeth and moved toward his little brother until Klaus placed Sam into a headlock. One move and he could end Sam, forcing him to turn. The hybrid raised his eyebrows, daring Dean to take a stand, and smiled triumphantly when Dean backed down.

“Take tonight,” he said, releasing Sam. “My sister needs time to rest. I suggest you do the same, you have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.” He walked away briskly without another word, Freya following after shooting Y/N an apologetic look.

Sam coughed, wiping the remains of Klaus’ blood from his mouth and standing slowly.

“Come on,” Y/N muttered sheepishly. “I can show you to a guest room.”

“There’s no way in hell I’m staying here,” Dean protested. “There’s a motel nearby, we can stay there, come on.”

He left, giving Y/N a choice. She glanced around at the familiar house - once her home - and sighed before letting Sam help her out to the car.

*****

“Cas, where are you? Call me back,” Dean hung up the phone, tossing it onto the small table in the motel room.

Sam helped Y/N clean up, propped on the edge of the small tub in the bathroom, dressing the wound on her neck and wrapping her wrist carefully. “Sorry,” he muttered when she winced once more.

“It’s fine. Thanks,” she smiled reassuringly at him.

He nodded and glanced out into the room, watching his brother pace. “So, do you want to talk about what happened in there?” He asked carefully.

She shook her head.

“Y/N, what you’re asking of Dean…”

“I know,” she cut him off.

Sam met her eyes, disappointment sinking into her, making her feel small. “He’s my brother, I won’t lose him,” he said.

She nodded and turned away. He finished cleaning her up in silence, not wanting to push her right then. When he stood, he helped her up. “I’m gonna go track down some snacks,” he said quietly, feeling the tension build as Dean shot Y/N a disapproving glare.

She thanked him once more before he left the room, leaving her to face Dean.

“I left Cas a few messages,” Dean said clearing his throat. “I’m sure he’ll be here as soon as he gets them, and we’ll have you patched up in no time.”

Y/N nodded and sat on the edge of the bed.

“So were you ever going to tell us?” He asked, his tone accusing.

She sighed. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Nothing to tell? Oh I don’t know, I’d say your ex being an Original vampire is information we should have.”

“Dean, I’m sorry,” she said trying to head off a fight. “But my past is exactly that, my past. There was no point in bringing it up.”

“It’s not your past, Y/N, because here we are in the thick of it! We’re in a motel room trying to get some rest so I can march back into Purgatory and save your boyfriend’s bloodsucking ass!” His deep voice boomed in the tiny room.

She shook her head, standing up to face Dean. “What would you have liked me to say, Dean? Hi, I’m Y/N, I’m a hunter, too. I enjoy coffee, reading, and my ex is a powerful vampire who can’t be killed.”

Dean stepped into her space, his anger boiling. “A little heads up would have been nice,” he argued. “You’re letting him get in your head, risking your life, my life… _Sam’s_ , all so you can get him back.”

“You don’t know him, Dean!”

“I learned everything I ever needed to know about him in there,” he snapped. “He’s a monster, Y/N, and you’re fooling yourself if you think anything else.”

“You know better than anyone there’s more to it than that…what about Benny?” She countered, bringing up Dean’s trusted friend, a vampire he had once rescued from Purgatory.

“What about him?”

“How is this any different?”

“Because I was never fucking Benny!” He shouted.

Y/N bit her lip, nodding and refusing to take the bait. “I’m gonna get some sleep,” she said. “I suggest you and Sam do the same.”

She stormed out, slamming the door before heading to her room next door.

 


	5. Chapter Five

“Are you sure about this?” Sam asked his brother once more. The brothers stood in the foyer of the Mikaelson home once more, still exhausted from their restless evening after a long day.

Dean’s angry eyes glanced at Klaus, who stood over Elijah’s body, listening to their exchange. “I don’t have much of a choice, here,” he said knowing the hybrid would leverage Sam again if he needed to.

“Dean,” Sam began but Dean pulled him in for a quick hug, patting his back.

“I’ve got this, Sammy. Keep an eye on Y/N?”

Sam smiled sadly and nodded, stepping aside.

Y/N moved towards Dean, clasping the charm on her necklace in her hand, a nervous tick he had noticed on more than one occasion. Her other arm still hung in its sling, her wrist aching.

Dean looked over her injuries. The bruising on her neck had darkened overnight. “Cas should be here, soon,” he said apologetically.

She shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Dean…”

“Y/N…” they both spoke at the same time. He shook his head and pulled her hand from her necklace, intertwining their fingers. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Be careful,” she whispered, pulling him in for a hug.

He released her when she hissed, pain shooting into her arm when he pressed against her. “Sorry,” he muttered, clearing his throat.

She wanted to apologize about everything, to tell him it didn’t matter, that he didn’t need to do this. She was sending Dean back into Purgatory - a place where all of his worst nightmares stemmed from and she wished she could tell him to stay. But she knew Klaus, and she wasn’t willing to risk his temper.

 _Klaus’ temper is an excuse_ , the little voice in her head chimed in. If she were being honest with herself, she wouldn’t tell Dean not to go because she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Elijah - of never seeing him again.

She stepped back and Freya lit the last candle. The witch held a necklace out to Dean, handing it to him. “You can use this to trap his soul,” she explained. “That will get him back through the gates undetected.”

Dean nodded, taking and placing it around his neck, tucking the blue crystal on the end of the delicate chain into his shirt carefully.

“Are you ready?” The witch asked.

Dean nodded, and Freya began a spell from her mother’s grimoire, drawing from Klaus’ power as she poured Dean’s blood that she had collected earlier onto the page.

As she spoke her incantations her nose began to bleed and Y/N glanced at Sam, concern on her face when there was a crack. A portal appeared, and Dean grabbed up his bag and machete, glanced over his shoulder once at Y/N and Sam, and stepped through before it closed just as quickly.

Freya stopped, taking a deep breath and leaning on the table in front of her.

“Now what?” Y/N asked.

Klaus looked around the room, as if he were bored. “Now we wait,” he said uneasily.

*****

_Dean’s feet hit the ground with a thud, and instantly he regretted stepping through the door. He had worked hard to put this place behind him, and he’d have traded just about anything to be anywhere else but this nightmare._

_He glanced around, the quiet unsettling. The trees rustled lightly in the wind as though it were whispering a warning. He gripped the machete in his hand tightly, ready to dismember anything that came his way. His breathing was heavy, his heart pounding in his ears as he moved through the dreary forest._

_It took him a year to find Cas in this place, and he had twenty four hours and he’d be out, with or without Elijah._

_Elijah, the son of a bitch, he thought. He hated the guy for everything he had put Y/N through, though he was sure he only knew a fraction of it. He loathed his brother, and while Freya didn’t seem hostile, he didn’t particularly trust her either._

_The Mikaelsons were trouble, and he wondered how Y/N got mixed up with a family like that._

_Dean was ripped from his thoughts suddenly when he heard a growl behind him, turning to find a hideous creature charging at him. It was all teeth and fury, it’s eyes hungry. He stood his ground, waiting for the right moment before taking a swing, cleaning it’s head right off, a black ooze splattering everywhere._

_He groaned as the sticky substance clung to his clothes, doing his best to wipe it away until he realized it was useless and made his way deeper into the forest._

*****

Y/N shifted on the couch uncomfortably, her body protesting with each movement.

“You’re a fool,” Klaus mumbled, rolling his eyes at her distress. “You could be patched up in no time if you just stopped being so stubborn.”

“I’m fine,” she winced at a sudden sharp pain, and Klaus flashed in front of her.

“Enough, love,” he bit into his wrist and she pushed him away.

As tempting as it was, as desperate as she was to feel anything but the ache in her bones, she felt like it would be a betrayal. She had already hurt Dean enough.

Sam sat down beside her carefully, placing his hand gently on her back. “Y/N…”

She cut him off. “Where the hell is Cas?” She asked with a grimace.

Wings fluttered and they all shifted their attention to the doorway. “I’m here,” the angel said.

*****

_Dean was beginning to think his trip was useless. He was tired and hungry, his muscles burning, and there had been no sign of Elijah. He continued to run, the monsters having quickly learned a human had entered Purgatory once more, and they were all too happy to see him in particular._

_When he thought he was in the clear, he stopped to catch his breath. As he stood hunched over, panting, a Leviathan took him by surprise, tackling him to the ground. Dean groaned, his knife knocked away, and he gripped the monster by it’s throat, using all the strength he had left to hold it off as it’s jaw’s widened to reveal rows of sharp, jagged teeth._

_He moved his head to the side as the creature lunged, narrowly missing becoming a meal. He tried to leverage his feet beneath him to kick it away, but it was useless, he was pinned. For a moment Dean thought this was how it would end, his life flashing before his eyes._

_He slammed his eyes shut as his muscles started to give way, the monster’s hot breath panting on his face. He pictured Sam, and Cas - and then his thoughts strayed to Y/N. He remembered the way she felt in his arms, the smell of her hair and the feel of her lips - and he found a little more strength, not willing to let the hideous creature above him be his last view._

_Dean roared as he pushed up harder, using one hand to reach out for his knife. He struggled, and just as he gripped the very edge of the blade the pressure on him released - blood splattering in his face._

_Dean’s eyes shot open, and he looked up in surprise._

_Elijah stood above him, gripping the Leviathan’s head in his hand before tossing it aside in disgust. He pulled out a handkerchief, using it to clean his hand before offering it to Dean. “It seems I’m late, forgive me,” he said._

_Dean ignored the offered handkerchief, sitting up and pushing the body off of him. “About time,” he groaned. “You’re lucky I didn’t leave your ass behind.”_

_Elijah gave a forced smile. “Perhaps we should get going, then,” he stated, tucking the handkerchief back into his pocket._

_Dean said nothing, shooting a glare at the Original before walking past him, leading the way to the exit._

*****

Y/N sighed in relief as Cas stepped into the room. “Cas,” she breathed.

Sam stood, giving him room, and Klaus stepped away in annoyance. “I’m sorry, I would have been here sooner…” he placed his hand on her forehead and shut his eyes. A white light glowed beneath his skin and she winced, slamming her eyes shut for a moment until a calmness spread through her. The pain in her body lifted, and she felt lighter.

Her wounds healed, giving her immediate relief. She stretched her fingers, moving her arms and standing on her legs, feeling the strength beneath them. “Thank you.”

“Where have you been?” Sam asked.

Cas glanced around the room, shifting uncomfortably. “I know what killed your friend.”

Klaus and Freya shared a look, the entire room waiting for Cas to continue.

“I’m sorry, who are you exactly?” Freya asked, still surprised at his sudden appearance.

“Castiel.”

“Cas is an angel,” Y/N explained.

Klaus waved his hand, urging the conversation forward. “Get on with it, what is powerful enough to kill my brother?”

Freya was torn, needing further explanation about Cas as well as her brother. “I’m sorry, you’re not the least bit shocked there’s an angel in our foyer?” She hissed at Klaus.

Klaus let out an exasperated sigh. “If I’m the devil, who am I to deny the existence of an angel?” He groaned. “Now please, sister, we have more pressing matters at hand.”

Cas stood from the couch and addressed the group. “There’s been a lot of activity on angel radio, it seems an Empusa was released.”

“An Empusa?” Sam had never come across one in his research and his curiosity peaked.

“In every culture it’s different - similar to your kind,” he waved at Klaus. “She preys on the innocent, preferring the blood of young men.”

“Child’s play,” Klaus growled. “My brother is an Original, not just any ordinary vampire.”

“She seduces them for sport, like a game, not because she needs it.”

“So she’s not a vampire?” Y/N asked.

“She’s a phantom. A perversion of a demigod and a demon; she’s ancient and powerful, and she’s angry,” the angel elaborated.

“What does she want with my family?” Klaus growled.

Cas sighed, shaking his head. “She’s hungry for power; draining the lifeblood of a supernatural creature not only sustains her, it fuels her - makes her stronger.”

Y/N leaned forward, holding her head in her hands. “What’s a better source of power than an Original?”

“How do we stop her?” Sam asked.

Cas sighed. “Heaven doesn’t have the resources it used to,” he admitted. “She’s able to change her appearance, making herself desirable to her victims. She could be anywhere,” he sighed. “It won’t be easy…”

“But she can be stopped,” Klaus asked rhetorically.

“She’s been stopped before,” Cas agreed.

“Let’s get to work, then,” Freya said, pulling books from her shelves.

Sam nodded in agreement, offering to run back to the room to grab his laptop with access to files from the bunker.

Y/N shook her head. “No, I’ll go. All of this sitting around and waiting is driving me insane,” she muttered as she glanced at the clock. They still had a few hours before the portal would be opened once more. “I could use the distraction.”

“Be quick, love,” Klaus growled.

She grabbed the keys to Baby and headed out into the street, grateful to have a moment to herself.

*****

Y/N had barely finished gathering Sam’s computer when she heard a knock on the hotel door.

She didn’t bother looking through the pinhole on her door, anxious to hear any news about Dean or Elijah, so she was surprised when she found the familiar face standing before her.

“Hey, you,” he smiled, his eyes crinkling as he took in his old friend.

Her mouth dropped. “But I thought…” she reached out, touching him carefully as if she were sure he was a ghost. “Marcel?”

He held his arms up. “The one and only. I heard you were back in town,” he grinned ear to ear.

She hugged him tightly, glad to see he was alive and well. “I thought you were dead,” she gasped, her tears threatening to spill over.

“Hey, I’m good,” he said, hugging her back tightly. “What brings you to my city?”

She released him, shrugging. “Long story,” she said, too exhausted to relive the past forty-eight hours. “I saw you die…on the bridge,” she breathed.

Marcel’s face dropped and he looked away for a moment. “Yea, well, you know me, I’m a survivor.”

“He ripped your heart out,” her mind raced to process what was reality and what was an illusion.

“Yea, he did. So you understand then why I have to do this,” he whispered.

“Do what?”

Marcel looked her in her eyes once more, sadness crossing over his features for a brief moment before he reared his head back.

The last thing she saw was a flash of fangs as he ripped into her.

*****

_“You won’t be able to pass through on your own,” Dean explained, pulling the necklace from his shirt that Freya had given him. He took a small knife out, slicing into his hand and holding it over the necklace, the blood dripping onto the charm._

_Elijah furrowed his brows, his normally pristine suit covered in gore. “What are you doing?” He asked, the scent of Dean’s blood hitting his nostrils. Elijah was tired, and he had used his strength to fight off countless souls, all eager to tear each other apart. He could use a drink, but he turned away, suppressing his hunger._

_Dean didn’t answer, instead he began calling out the words of a spell._

_Elijah watched, and his body began to burn, when suddenly his world went dark._

_Dean straightened up, gripping the necklace tightly, Elijah’s soul inside. He felt a presence behind him - monsters closing in. He was more than ready to get home and finish transferring Elijah’s soul back to his body so he could be done with the whole damn thing. He waited anxiously when he heard a pop, the seam to the real world opening once more._

_He didn’t hesitate as he jumped through._

*****

Dean crashed onto the foyer ground, the necklace burning against his chest. Sam rushed to his side, helping him stand as the older hunter groaned.

Freya released Klaus and they both moved forward, waiting for their brother anxiously. Dean moved over to Elijah’s body, holding the necklace above him and repeating the spell.

A gold liquid-like substance spilled out, dripping onto Elijah’s body and soaking in, and when Dean stopped speaking, Elijah’s eyes shot open.

“Welcome back, brother,” Klaus said as Elijah gasped for air. He moved forward, pulling him up into a sitting position and hugging him tightly.

Elijah returned his brother’s hug before pulling Freya into his arms, all the while his face searching.

“Where’s Y/N?” Dean asked Sam gruffly.

Sam’s eyes darted towards the Mikaelsons before explaining that she went back to the motel to get some things. “She was pretty anxious,” he added.

Dean sighed. “Cas?”

“I’m here,” he said from behind them. He hugged Dean, grateful his friend was safe once more, knowing Purgatory was worse than Hell.

Elijah had listened in, his posture stiffening at the mention of Y/N. His chest tightened and he longed to see her. He stood and turned to Dean, his hand outstretched. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean looked at Elijah’s offered hand and dismissed it, his jaw tightening as he stood straight, his head held high. He had a few inches on Elijah, and he made sure he knew it. “I didn’t do it for you,” he said, his voice low.

Elijah dropped his hand. “Yes, well nonetheless it seems I am in your debt.”

Dean shook his head. “You want to repay me?” He asked. “Stay away from Y/N.”

Elijah’s lips turned up slightly as he pulled his shoulders back and placed his hand in his pocket.

“Dean,” Sam warned, knowing his brother was on the edge of picking a fight he couldn’t win.

Elijah took a step towards Dean, his stature confident and sure. “If that is what Y/N wants,” he leaned forward, his voice low. “But make no mistake - until she says the word, I will not let her go again.”

Dean took another step so they were nose to nose, letting the Original know he wasn’t about to back down. “You don’t come near her, you son of a bitch,” he growled. “You don’t speak to her…you so much as _look_ at her and I’ll drag your bloodsucking ass straight back to Purgatory myself.”

“Dean!” Sam shouted, keeping an eye on Klaus who stood with an evil smirk on his face.

Elijah simply held his ground, his posture and tone calm while his words carried a heavy threat. “Perhaps you should heed your brother’s warning and run along.”

When Sam gripped Dean’s arm, the hunter stepped back, but he kept his angry gaze trained on Elijah. “We’re done here,” Dean spat before shaking off Sam’s grip and leaving.

Sam pulled his lips into a forced smile, rocking on his feet awkwardly as he waited for Dean to come storming back in.

“Where the hell is my car?” Dean boomed angrily, stomping back into the courtyard.

*****

Y/N woke, her muscles burning and her head swimming. She groaned at the stiffness in her neck, frustration and pain warring for her attention.

She moved to rub the sleep out of her eyes and found she couldn’t, her arms trapped and her shoulders aching. She glanced down - she wore the leggings and grey T-shirt she had changed into earlier, blood red stains spattered on the front.

She blinked rapidly, her mind fighting to process everything against the fog. When her vision cleared she took in her surroundings and instantly recognized the inside of a crypt. She was in witch territory.

She groaned at the pull in her shoulders and realized she was in chains, her arms held captive above her head as she knelt on the cold stone ground.

She heard a soft shuffling and lifted her head, leaning it tiredly against her arm. Her gaze fell upon Marcel and she furrowed her brows. “What?” She coughed, her throat dry and raw. “You did this to me?”

Marcel moved forward and knelt in front of her, his usual charming eyes cold. “You have to understand, sweetheart,” he said placing his hand on her cheek gently. She turned her face away harshly, refusing to look at him. “It’s nothing personal.”

He stood again, pacing back and forth.

“We were friends though.”

He nodded at that. “The line between friend and enemy is a thin one these days, Y/N.”

She coughed, the wounds on her neck throbbing at the movement, causing her to wince. “Why are you doing this?”

Marcel dipped down again so he was at her level, brushing the hair from her face. “Because I need you.”

Y/N hardened her gaze as she looked at Marcel, a man she knew to be kind, a man that lived by a code. “What happened to you?” She asked, not recognizing the man in front of her anymore.

“Your boyfriend happened to me,” he said, revealing his fangs to her.

She gasped as she took in the extra fangs -  his eyes shifted red, his teeth sharp and hungry. She scrambled away from him as far and fast as the chains allowed her to before his face returned to normal.

*****

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dean groaned after Cas had filled him in. He couldn’t wait to get out New Orleans. If he never saw a vampire again, it’d be too soon.

Sam shrugged. “Dean, this isn’t just their problem.”

“They’re using us, Sam!” He shouted.

Elijah stood with a hand in his pocket, watching the exchange patiently. He knew better than anyone how difficult sibling discussions could be.

Klaus on the other hand couldn’t resist. He chuckled. “Perhaps, but you should be grateful you have yet to outlive your usefulness.”

“Niklaus,” Elijah reprimanded. He wasn’t particularly fond of Dean, but he would do no harm to Y/N’s friends, which meant he wouldn’t let his brother harm them either.

Dean glared at Klaus, and Sam cleared his throat. “Listen, Dean, I get it. I do, I don’t want to be here either, but this isn’t just about them. It’s about all of us.”

Cas nodded in agreement. “If Empusa continues to gain power, it will be bad for all of us.”

“How bad?” Dean tried to contain his frustration.

“World ending.”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “When is it ever not world ending?” He muttered.

Sam understood the feeling. “Listen, we’ve all had a long day. Let’s break, do some research, regroup…we can meet back here in the morning.”

Dean nodded, turning his back on the Mikaelsons once more as he strolled out of the compound into the crisp evening air. Sam appeared moments later with an apologetic look on his face. “Don’t,” Dean said, cutting off his brother before he could say a word.

Sam swallowed and nodded. He held up his phone. “I got us an uber back to the motel,” he said.

“Great,” Dean sighed. “Just great.” He glanced down at his appearance, evidence of his time in Purgatory clinging to his clothes. He was too tired to care, all he wanted was to see Y/N and have a beer, and if a shitty Honda Accord was the only way to make it happen, he’d suck it up.

*****

Elijah didn’t waste time, using his speed and the information he had gathered from his sister to race to Y/N’s motel room the second he knew the Winchesters were gone. He knew anything he said would not be enough, but he needed to see her.

He knocked on her door and waited, but there was no answer. He listened for movement inside, but only heard silence. He glanced to make sure he had the right room number before breaking the lock with ease, letting himself inside.

Her familiar scent wrapped around him, her belongings strewn across the bed, a trail of clothes to her suitcase. He wanted to roll his eyes, her lack of organization was something that always drove him crazy but somehow made him adore her even more. He was glad to see she hadn’t changed too much, but brushed the thought aside as he began searching the room.

He pulled out his phone, dialing her number, one he had never been able to forget, and heard the buzz under the bed. Elijah furrowed his brows, picking up the phone and immediately knowing something was wrong.

He breathed in again, recognizing the faint smell of her blood lingering in the doorway, and he felt the panic rise in his chest. He looked carefully, the shiny glimmer of her necklace in the corner catching his eye. He picked it up, placing it in his pocket knowing Freya could use it for a locator spell.

The sound of tire’s on the pavement alerted him that the Winchesters had arrived, and he vamped down to meet them.

Dean glared upon seeing Elijah, his frustration only growing. He had one hell of a day, and he wanted nothing more to do with Elijah or his siblings.

He got out of the car, not bothering to look at the vampire, when Elijah spoke.

“She’s gone.”

The tone of his voice told him just how worried he was, and if a guy like Elijah was worried, Dean was pretty sure he should be, too.


	6. Chapter Six

Freya’s shoulders slumped. “Whoever took Y/N has a cloaking spell on her. They know what they’re doing,” she sighed in frustration. She held the necklace up, knowing it was useless.

Dean snatched the necklace out of Freya’s hand, the gold circular locket dainty in his large palm. He studied the small charm, realizing now that it was in front of him he couldn’t recall a time when Y/N wasn’t wearing it. He often caught her clutching it, pulling the locket across the chain, back and forth without even realizing it.

He popped the locket open, delicate script etched into the metal. “Always & Forever -E.M.” the scribe read. He slammed the locket shut, clutching it tightly in his hand, jealousy sitting heavily in the pit of his stomach. Jealousy he wasn’t sure he had any right to feel.

Elijah studied Dean’s reaction carefully, before holding his hand out, wordlessly asking for the locket.

Dean glanced at his hand and reluctantly handed it to him. Elijah ran his thumb over the charm before placing it carefully in his breast pocket.

Klaus walked in, his strides long and purposeful, his fists clenched. He had gone to search the room, knowing he’d be able to tell if anyone else had been there, his hybrid nose giving him an advantage. “Her room reeks of Marcel,” he growled.

“Who the hell is Marcel?” Dean asked.

Klaus’ mouth pressed into a thin line, fury lacing his voice. “Marcellus was family.”

“Was?” Asked Sam.

“Yes, until my dear brother took it upon himself to ensure he’d be our greatest foe.”

“What does he want with Y/N?” Sam continued his questioning.

Klaus chuckled. “Isn’t it obvious? Marcellus is plotting against us. He had intended for Elijah here to stay dead,” he groaned. “When that didn’t happen he felt the need to retaliate in the only way he knows how to hurt my brother…”

“Niklaus,” Elijah scolded.

“So this is your fault?” Dean directed towards Elijah, shaking his head.

“I am well aware that Y/N is in danger because of me,” Elijah replied. “Now I suggest instead of harping on your petty jealousy, you put your limited skills to use.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Freya shook her head. “Marcel adores Y/N, she’s like a sister to him. He’d never harm her…”

*****

Y/N’s head was swimming as she slowly eased in and out of consciousness. As she struggled to open her eyes she heard movement. “Marcel?” She whispered, her voice hoarse. She blinked several times, the room not quite in focus, but she saw a shadow figure approaching.

“Mmm, he was fun,” a feminine voice teased. “Time to try on something new.”

Y/N felt slender fingers trace her cheek. She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a breath and mustering the strength to lift her head. She opened her eyes once more, her vision focusing, but whoever the voice belonged to was gone.

She was alone once again.

*****

Freya sighed, slamming her hand on the table in front of her. It wasn’t often she found a cloaking spell she couldn’t tackle, but she had hit a wall.

“Where are you going?” Elijah asked as Niklaus rushed past him.

“To deal with Marcel myself,” he growled. “I’ll tear this entire city apart to find him if I have to.”

Dean nodded. “Sounds like a plan to me,” his long strides worked to catch up to Klaus quickly.

“Maybe we should think this through,” Sam said, stepping into their path.

Klaus glared at the hunter before him, daring him to stop him.

Sam swallowed nervously and stepped back. “Look, I want her back, too. But according to you guys, this Marcel guy is a threat even to you. If he can kill an Original, we need to have a plan of attack.”

“What would you suggest?” Klaus spat.

Just then Freya caught a glimpse of the photos on the fireplace - a picture of Marcel and Rebekah still framed. She ran over to it, clutching it tightly. “If I can’t track Y/N, maybe I can find Marcel.”

She did the spell, everyone watching with bated breath. When she was done she looked confused. “He’s with Rebekah,” she said in disbelief.

“Rebekah’s in New Orleans?” Elijah asked.

Freya shook her head. “No, she’s in New York. With Marcel. He didn’t take her…”

“Y/N?” Cas’ voice cut them all off as they turned their heads.

Sure enough, there she stood, strolling into the courtyard as if she had never left.

Klaus’ shoulders relaxed, and Freya rushed to hug her. “Thank God you’re alright,” the witch cried.

Y/N nodded, a reassuring smile playing on her lips.

Dean stepped forward next, his brows furrowed. She shifted before him, as though she was just as lost as he was, unsure of where they stood. “You good?”

She blushed and dipped her eyes to the floor. “I’m good,” she said.

Sam patted her on the back gently, glad to see his friend safe once more, and she turned to give him a soft smile.

She then turned and began walking toward Elijah, who hadn’t moved since she entered.

His breath was caught in his chest - so many feelings rushing to the surface he wasn’t sure what to address first. Relief that she was safe, shame at what he did to her beyond the red door, anger at her having left him with no explanation, hope that she had come back…

He watched her move and though she was different (tougher, stronger) than when he had last seen her, she was as beautiful as ever.

When she stood in front of him he was unable to do anything but whisper her name.

She placed her hand gently along his cheek. “Elijah,” she said.

But he shut his eyes, unable to look at her, the pain at seeing her once more threatening to overwhelm him. He turned his face, leaning into her hand, his lips brushing against her wrist.

Dean turned away from them, suddenly feeling like he was the one intruding. He clenched his fist, wishing he had pulled her into his arms while he had the chance.

Elijah breathed her in, and his eyes shot open. He lifted his gaze to her, and when she smirked he knew without a doubt.

His eyes shifted, angry veins working their way to the surface, and he released his fangs. In a flash he was grabbing her by the throat and slamming her against the wall with a growl.

Dean shot forward but Cas placed a hand on his chest.

“Where is she?” Elijah snarled.

Y/N’s eyes went wide in shock and she called out for Dean.

“What the hell?” Dean bellowed, but Cas held him back, shaking his head as he watched the scene play out before him.

Elijah ignored her desperate cry and Dean’s protests as he shoved his hand into her chest, his grip tightening around her heart as he ripped it from her body, tossing it aside.

“Y/N!” Sam and Dean rushed forward, Klaus and Freya staring in disbelief.

“What did you do?” Dean roared, dropping to his knees.

Cas placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder, holding onto him tightly despite Dean trying to shake him off.

“Brother?” Klaus asked, confusion lacing his tone, his eyes brimming with tears.

Elijah met his eyes with an angry glare, his chest heaving.

“It wasn’t Y/N,” Cas spoke finally.

Dean looked up to the angel, who was looking at Elijah in understanding. When he looked back down the body was gone, as though nothing had happened.

“Elijah,” Freya watched the map on the table, the spell she had been trying again and again suddenly working as the ash she had used began to trace across the map of New Orleans. Whatever had cloaked Y/N’s location had stopped when Elijah had killed her copy.

He watched as the trickle of ash raced across the lines of the city, stopping at the cemetery.

“I found her,” Freya sighed in relief. When she looked up her brother was gone.

“If that wasn’t Y/N…” Sam trailed off.

“Empusa,” Cas confirmed.

“Well then,” Klaus shrugged. “That was easy enough, it turns out your assistance wasn’t needed after all.” He held his arms up as if asking what they were still doing in his home.

“She’s not dead,” Cas said. “Not permanently.”

“Nothing’s ever that easy anymore, is it?” Dean groaned. “Where is she?” He asked Freya, moving to look at the map.

“Ahh, witch territory,” Klaus elaborated, looking over his shoulder. “Shall we?”

Dean shot him a glare, but nodded as Klaus led the way.

*****

Y/N felt her arms drop, the pain rushing into them immediately and she wished she had been left alone. Numb was better than agony. She groaned and slumped forward, falling into warm arms that enveloped her immediately.

“Marcel,” she whispered, though she wasn’t sure any noise actually came out.

“Not exactly,” Elijah’s deep voice rang in her ears. “I’ve got you,” he soothed. “You’re safe.”

She opened her eyes at his words, and as he came into focus she began to cry softly. “You’re here,” she choked.

“I’m here,” he whispered into her hair. He turned her in his arms, sitting back so her back was to his chest. He bit into his wrist and held it up to her lips.

“You can’t be here,” she cried.

Elijah brushed the hair back from her face. “Drink,” he commanded. He pressed the wound to her mouth, giving her no choice, but she didn’t fight him. Instead she drank greedily, pulling swallows of blood until the pain subsided.

She sat up, wiping the blood from her lips from her sleeve, her muscles stiff. Elijah stood, helping her to her feet. She looked up at him, swaying a little and falling into his chest. Though the wounds were healing, she was still too tired, too broken to hold her weight up. Elijah bent, scooping her into his arms.

When he reached the front of the cemetery, the Impala was pulling up to the curb. Klaus was out of the car first, looking to Elijah who tilted his head toward the tombs, signaling that he had Y/N, his brother should go.

Klaus nodded and was gone in a flash, ready to tear Empusa limb from limb when he found her.

Dean and Sam jumped out of the car.

“I got this, Sam, go.” Dean commanded, moving towards Y/N quickly.

Sam hesitated just for a moment, before following Klaus’ path.

“I got you, sweetheart,” Dean whispered, his hands moving under her and forcing Elijah to let go. Y/N slid into Dean’s arm with ease, her head cradled against his chest.

Elijah watched the way he handled her, delicately and with care. He watched the hunters eyes catalogue everything, searching for a source of the blood, trying to find the wounds that had left them. He cleared his throat. “I gave her my blood,” he explained. “She’ll be fine, but we should get her home.”

Dean nodded, sliding her into the backseat carefully before going around to the drivers side door. He glanced at Elijah across the hood of the car. “You coming?” He asked.

Elijah considered him for a moment before opening the passenger door and sliding in. They drove off, leaving Klaus and Sam to clean anything else up, knowing that for now Y/N’s return was a victory.

*****

Y/N woke in her bed back at the bunker, and immediately confusion flooded her. She sat up, glancing at the clock, and wondered for a moment if it had all been a dream. She unconsciously reached for the charm on her necklace to find it was gone. She padded the bed around her, her fingers searching in the bedspread for her locket.

It was gone, and tears sprung to her eyes at the thought of never seeing it again.

She shook them away, standing and walking to the sink, rinsing her face. As she dabbed she examined herself in the mirror, the bites on her neck gone. She let the memories wash over her, Marcel attacking her, torturing her. She remembered Elijah finding her, Dean holding her…

How long had she been out?

She smoothed her hair, and stepped out into the bright hallway. She made her way to the kitchen, and found Sam.

“Y/N, hey,” Sam stood, stepping aside and gesturing for her to take his seat.

She shook her head. “I’m good, thanks. How long have I been out?”

“Just the day,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“Why are we back at the bunker?”

“We thought it might be best to regroup…”

She nodded, and shuffled on her feet awkwardly. “Right,” she said, opening the fridge and grabbing some food, suddenly starving. She wanted to ask where Dean was, how Elijah was. Had he wanted to say goodbye to her?

Sam cleared his throat. “Dean’s in the other room…”

She froze, wondering if Sam had read her thoughts.

“With Elijah and Klaus,” he added.

“They’re here?” She asked, her voice a harsh whisper.

Sam shrugged. “They need our help and honestly we could use theirs.”

“Hey, you’re up…” Dean stepped into the kitchen, his eyes trained on Y/N.

She held up the apple she had pulled from the fridge awkwardly. “Yea, thought I’d grab a bite.”

Dean nodded and shifted his weight to his other foot.

“Right, well, I’m gonna give you two a minute,” Sam muttered, making himself scarce.

She glanced away from Dean, tucking her hair behind her ear, unsure of what to say, where to start.

Dean moved across the room, taking her off guard as he pulled her in for a heated kiss. When he parted she stared at him wide eyed.

“What was that for?” She breathed, her heart pounding in her chest.

Dean cupped her face in his hands, resting his forehead against hers and letting out a shaky breath. “I just...I thought I lost you back there,” he admitted.

She shook her head, her hands coming up to grip his arms.

“I’m sorry, I know...I get that things are complicated, and you have a lot of shit you need to figure out…” he licked his lips and she cut him off, kissing him again.

She wasn’t sure what it meant, or even if she wanted to examine it yet. But when Dean’s lips were on hers everything else seemed to fade away. The hunts, her demons, the world stripped away until there was nothing left - just Y/N and Dean. For a moment, she’d even forget about Elijah….

Elijah who was in the other room.

She pulled away from Dean, an apology on her lips. Dean had a way of sweeping her away and losing her senses, and she couldn’t afford that right now.

“You okay?” Dean asked, rubbing her arms.

She nodded. “Yea, I just...I should go make an appearance I guess…” she said awkwardly.

“Yea, right,” Dean dropped his hands from her and she stepped past him to the other room where the rest of the group was skimming through books and piles of files, researching anything they could get their hands on.

“How nice of you to join us, love,” Klaus was leaning back in a chair, his feet kicked up onto the table, tossing another book aside. “Perhaps you could speed this tedious process up.”

“I’m feeling great, thanks for asking,” she shot back at the hybrid.

Elijah glanced up from the book he was skimming through, standing slowly, his chocolate eyes making her feel as if he could see through her. “You look well,” he commented, placing a hand in his pocket.

Y/N blushed and turned her eyes to the floor. “Thank you,” she said softly before lifting her gaze to meet his. She felt her heart stutter, the air sucked from her lungs. This wasn’t some mind maze, she wasn’t nearly delusional with pain, and it wasn’t a dream. Elijah was here, in front of her. She hated that just by looking at her, he still affected her after all this time.

Dean stepped into the room, another pile of books in hand. He dropped them on the table, and picked up the one on the top. As he walked around the table toward Sam, he slammed the book in Elijah’s chest. “Keep looking,” he growled.

Elijah kept his eyes on Y/N, and when he spoke his voice was low so only Dean could hear. “Believe me, Mr. Winchester, I intend to.” He turned his eyes slowly, narrowing them at Dean, who clenched his jaw.

“So what do we got?” Y/N asked, attempting to break the tension and beginning to sort through the fresh pile of books.

Sam ran his hands through his hair. “Other than knowing Empusa can change her appearance, nothing.”

“This is a waste of time,” Klaus growled. “We find her, I kill her, what are we waiting for?”

“May I remind you, Niklaus, that this Empusa was able to take me down and had it not been for Y/N and Dean, you’d be back in New Orleans planning a funeral,” Elijah reminded his brother. “Perhaps running in without a plan is not the wisest course of action.”

Y/N cut in, seeing the anger boiling in Klaus’ body. “Where’s Cas?”

Dean shrugged. “Something about angel radio and tracking down some ancient text that could help us. Freya went with him.”

“Y/N, what happened?” Sam asked.

She rubbed the back of her neck, her memories flashing before her. “I went back to the motel, and Marcel knocked on the door...only I think maybe it _wasn’t_ Marcel.”

“It wasn’t,” Dean clarified. “Turns out Empusa can mimic anyone...”

“Do you remember anything else?” Sam asked gently, digging for answers.

She shrugged. “I remember asking why he was doing that...why he was torturing me,” she swallowed, remembering the pain. “He said he needed me...”

Elijah stiffened, anger set in his jaw.

“Great,” Dean snapped. “So we’ve got an all powerful being after Y/N and we don’t know why.”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Klaus shrugged. “She’s a mean to get to my brother and I.”

Sam considered it, knowing it made sense. “So we keep digging,” he said, reaching for another book. Klaus sighed and followed his lead.

Y/N flipped through the pages of the book in her hand before Dean leaned across the table, swiping the book away.

“Not happening, sweetheart,” he said. “You’re sitting this one out.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed the next book. “I’m fine, Dean. I think I can handle reading a book.”

Elijah excused himself from the room and Klaus leaned forward, amusement on his face. Dean didn’t pay attention to any of it, instead glaring at Y/N across the table, his jaw tightening.

“Dean, she’s fine,” Sam said.

“Thank you!” Y/N gestures towards Sam, driving her point home.

Dean glared at his brother, but before he could open his mouth his cell rang. He pulled it out of his back pocket, Jody’s name lighting up the screen. “Jody, what’s up?” Dean asked, holding the phone to his ear. His body teased as he pulled his brows together, causing Sam and Y/N to exchange glances. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down…”

He listened for a moment, nodding to her answering voice. Y/N wished he’d put it on speaker like he normally did, but knew he didn’t trust prying ears. She wanted to tell him it was useless, Klaus could probably have Jody’s location pinpointed in no time if he cared to listen hard enough.

“I’m on my way,” Dean said, hanging up and pocketing the phone again.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked.

“Jody’s got herself a demon she needs some help with.”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Let her handle it, I need you here, dealing with this.”

Dean shot him an angry glare. “Not happening, buddy. Besides, we’re not getting anywhere. I’ll be back in a day or two. Sam can stay, he’ll keep researching, Cas is chasing down a lead…”

“And you want out of digging through books,” Y/N rolled her eyes knowing Dean preferred the hunt.

He winked at her. “Well babe, you were so eager to jump in and be helpful, now’s your chance.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “So I can’t read a book but I’m good to hunt?”

Dean shrugged. “I need backup, Sam needs to stay on this case, that leaves you. You in or you out?”

“I’m so in,” she jumped at the chance, more than anxious to hit the road and get out of the bunker.

He smirked at her as he headed to his room. “Be ready in ten!” He tossed over his shoulder.

She rushed to her room and was tossing through her dresser drawers, looking for a sweatshirt when there was a knock. She turned to find Elijah standing in her doorway. She froze, her eyes moving to the floor.

Her room was tiny; it held a twin bed, a small sink, her dresser and a desk. It had never been a problem, because it was hers. However, with Elijah leaning against the doorframe it suddenly felt too small, like this little home she had carved out for herself suddenly wasn’t enough.

“Hey,” she breathed, meeting his eyes.

He glanced around, taking in her space, and she leaned forward, kicking her crumpled up pajamas next to the bed aside, as if shoving them away made the room more presentable. He didn’t miss her movement, his eyes crinkling slightly, the corner of his mouth turning up into a soft smile. “I see you are as organized as ever,” he teased.

Some of the tension left her shoulders and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Sorry,” she muttered.

He shook his head and took a step into the room. “May I?” He gestured toward the room and she nodded.

“Yea, of course. Come in…” She cleared her throat, turning back around and continuing her search through her drawer, distracting herself from the pounding in her chest.

“I am sorry, Y/N,” he said after a moment.

She froze, all of her emotions threatening to overwhelm her at his words. “Elijah,” her voice was soft, careful. She turned to face him and before she could continue he moved toward her, his hand reaching out to brush her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his warm eyes an endless pool of sorrow. “Please, forgive me. Believe me when I say it was never my intention to hurt you…” She leaned into his touch, and he relaxed a little, aware that she no longer flinched when he approached.

Her Y/E/C eyes glistened in the dim light. “It’s okay, I’m okay…” she wanted to believe her own words, knowing she wasn’t really okay. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be okay in a world where she had hurt Elijah, where she’d have to continue to hurt him.

But she had forgiven him for what had happened beyond the red door. She’d never hold it against him. Who he used to be, that wasn’t who he was anymore, and she’d forgive him a thousand times over if it meant he’d believe it - if it meant he’d see even a glimpse of the man she saw when she looked at him.

Elijah shook his head, holding his tears back, so she placed her hand over his. “I’m okay,” she repeated, stepping toward him, holding her head high. She rubbed her free hand along his jaw, coaxing his eyes back to hers. “I’m okay,” she whispered again.

He nodded, closing his eyes for a moment, leaning into her touch.

There was so much she wanted to say to him, but it didn’t matter.

She couldn’t be with Elijah. She wasn’t even sure he should be there now.

He breathed her in, stealing a moment before stepping back. He had missed her. He missed holding her in his arms, and her gravity still pulled him in after all this time. His heart clenched in his chest as he stepped away and he cleared his throat, trying to steady himself before speaking again. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out the necklace he had given her years ago.

She gasped as she realized what was in his hands, and reached for it immediately, her fingertips brushing against his palm. “I thought I lost it,” she whispered, tears springing to her eyes.

He smiled gently at her, a sadness behind his eyes that tugged at her. “I found it in your motel room,” he explained.

She clutched it to her chest, shutting her eyes and biting the inside of her cheek, trying to keep her feelings at bay. “Thank you,” she breathed.

“Of course,” he replied.

She tried to put it on, struggling with the clasp. He hesitated for a moment before offering to help and she turned, pulling her hair to the side. The tips of his fingers ghosted over the skin on the back of her neck and she closed her eyes, leaning back.

Elijah did the clasp, trailing his fingers down to her shoulders, stepping into her and dipping his head down to the the crook of her neck.

Y/N parted her lips, her body reacting to him instinctively, and she inhaled sharply as she turned in his arms, their faces a breath apart.

Her eyes searched his for a moment, as if she could find all the answers she needed in the warmth of his eyes. Before she could stop herself she leaned forward, ever so slowly, secretly hoping he’d pull away, that he’d have the strength to stop her before she could make a colossal mistake.

Elijah’s focus flicked down to her lips and he traced his own with his tongue, the air trapped in his lungs. He didn’t dare move, knowing the second it did she’d be gone again.

She closed the distance between them, her lips ghosting over his for the briefest of moments before visions shot through her head.

She saw snippets of a life that didn’t exist yet, a life she never wanted. Complete carnage, her hands covered in blood as Elijah called for her. She saw her reflection a piece of shattered glass, her eyes blood red.

She pulled back from him instantly, her hand covering her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I-I can’t...”

She stepped out of his hold, shaking her head, the tears rushing forward. She shoved her sweater into her duffel on the bed, zipped it up and threw it over her shoulder.

“Y/N,” Elijah gripped her arm, spinning her around once more. He narrowed his eyes, confused. He had done nothing but love her with everything he had. He had walked this earth longer than he cared to remember, and he knew exactly how rare love was.

Which is why he had been so blindsided when she had left him so long ago, telling him she couldn’t love him anymore.

Yet here she was, holding onto the necklace he had given her after all this time - his promise of always and forever. And now she was kissing him and running again.

“Why?” He finally managed to ask.

She opened her mouth to answer when Dean’s voice boomed down the hall. “I said ten minutes, Y/L/N!”

Elijah tightened his jaw and released his hold on her.

She watched as his face fell, and hated that she had to continue to break his heart - to break _hers_. She wiped at her cheek, turning her face away from him, unable to look at him. “I have to go,” she whispered.

He nodded and looked down to the floor, placing a hand in his pocket. When he lifted his head he ignored the moisture in his eyes, the single tear running down his cheek. He looked past Y/N, his shoulders squared. “Have a safe trip,” he said coolly. He didn’t wait for her to leave, instead turning on his heel and dismissing himself.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, her hand clutching the charm, her only line to a life she had missed so desperately. One she could never go back to.

It had been difficult enough - walking away from Elijah the first time. She thought of how hard she had worked to build a life outside of Elijah. How moving on had seemed like a possibility in Dean’s arms, until Klaus had pulled her back into their world.

She couldn’t survive there, because a world with Elijah wasn’t worth being in if she couldn’t be with him.

And if she had learned anything it was that she absolutely could not be with Elijah Mikaelson.

She put it behind her, more than ready to hit the road and take all of her pent up emotions out on a demon. She took a deep breath and headed outside, deciding she’d leave anything and everything Elijah at the bunker and deal with it later.

“You all good?” Dean was leaning against the car and he gave her a once over.

She nodded, tossing her bag into the trunk. “Let’s go kill us a demon,” she said, reaching for the door handle. As she opened the passenger door, Dean pushed it shut, blocking her.

“I need to know your head’s in the game.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m good, Dean.”

He studied her for a moment before opening the door for her, stepping aside as she climbed in. When he closed the door he turned to find Klaus, and he jumped. “Jesus man, let’s get one thing straight right now, none of that creepy vamp shit.”

Klaus smirked, ignoring Dean’s words. “I’d feel better if Y/N was accompanied by someone who could protect her.”

Dean squared his shoulder. “She can protect herself, but I’ve got her back.”

“While I have no doubt she can handle her own, Empusa is out there, and is searching for us, and quite eager to get her hands on Y/N to do it.”

“What are you suggesting?” Dean sighed.

Klaus shrugged, his hands tucked behind his back. “Elijah will go with you,” he stated firmly.

Y/N leaned out the window. “Klaus! I’m fine.”

“It’s non-negotiable, love.”

Elijah appeared, a small bag in hand, tossing it in the car. “Believe me, I want to go on this little road trip about as much as you want me here,” he groaned, sliding into the car.

Y/N huffed, leaning back into her seat and avoiding Elijah’s gaze in the mirror.

“Just great,” Dean muttered.

“Have a wonderful time,” Klaus grinned as Dean got in the car and started the engine. He waved as Dean sped off.

“Was that necessary?” Sam asked, stepping outside.

Klaus shrugged. “No, but it was entertaining. And it saves me from watching Elijah mope around here for the next two days, as if I weren’t already annoyed.”

Sam shook his head. “Yea, well now I’m going to have to deal with Dean’s mood for a week.”

 


	7. Chapter Seven

Dean flashed a fake badge. “Ma’am, I’m Agent-”

“Grayson,” Y/N offered. “And I’m Agent Wayne.” She tried to hold back the grin at her jab as Dean’s jaw tightened.

“We need access to your files on the Walter family case, if you don’t mind,” he said, his face grim as he bit back his annoyance.

The officer at the desk glanced between the two of them before looking over their shoulders at Elijah, her eyes narrowing.

“Detective Smith,” Elijah said dryly.

Dean shot him an irritated glance at the lack of creativity, but if Elijah noticed he certainly didn’t seem to care.

“I wasn’t aware they called the FBI in,” the officer leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. “You’ll have to take that up with the Captain. As far as I’m concerned this is our case and we’ve got it handled.”

“We’re just here to help,” Y/N said sweetly. They were a few towns over from Jody’s - the demon had moved on before they had arrived. It was outside of Jody’s jurisdiction and things were a bit more complicated, but nothing they couldn’t handle. Y/N smiled, but the woman wasn’t buying it. Her tired eyes looked angry and she glared.

Elijah sighed, rolling his eyes. “Perhaps we should speed this process up,” he suggested.

Y/N stepped aside, defeated, and Elijah stepped forward, his eyes locking onto the woman. “I need everything you have on the Walter case.”

Her demeanor shifted, her face going blank. “Of course.” She stood and crossed the room to a door, entering the evidence room and disappearing from sight.

“Did you seriously make me the Robin to your Batman?” Dean mumbled to Y/N.

She shrugged. “I mean, you have a kind of sidekick vibe, don’t you think?”

He pouted. “I’m Batman.”

“Not anymore, buddy,” she winked.

The woman returned and handed a box across the desk to Elijah who took it and thanked her, ignoring Y/N and Dean’s antics. “Now forget we were here and go about your day.”

*****

An hour later Dean and Y/N had all the information they had needed and then some. They had sorted through all of the files, making copies of what they needed, studying evidence and taking notes before Elijah returned it.

Elijah had compelled the officers to forget they were even there, and deciding they couldn’t make a move until nightfall, they sat at a diner, refueling.

The Original watched as Y/N and Dean scarfed down food as if it were their last meal, truly astonished at the amount of food in front of them.

Dean’s cheeks were full, and he chewed with a grin on his face, moaning like it was the first cheeseburger he had ever tasted. “So good,” he mumbled with his mouth full.

Y/N nodded in agreement, and when Dean reached over for a fry she didn’t miss a beat, slapping his hand away. She swallowed her bite before speaking. “Get your own, Winchester,” she warned.

Elijah chuckled softly, knowing better than to take food (particularly french fries) from her without asking, and it drew their attention across the table.

“You sure you don’t want anything?” Dean asked. “The pie is awesome.”

Elijah ran his fingers along the top of his cup of tea. “I’m quite alright.”

“Do you guys not eat?”

Y/N kicked Dean under the table. “Dean, that’s rude. He eats.”

Dean shrugged. “Whatever man, more for me,” he replied, flagging down the waitress for another order of fries.

Elijah wondered where on earth he put it all.

“Alright,” Y/N finished off the last of her meal, shoving the plate aside. “So what’s our move?”

Dean swallowed a bite and pulled a plate with a slice of apple pie closer to him, a fork at the ready. “We stake out the house, gank this son of a bitch, and crash before heading back tomorrow.”

“Why would he leave the mom alive?” She asked, flipping through photos and reading interviews of the remaining victims.

Dean shrugged. “Dunno, maybe he was in a hurry, or he wanted to leave a witness...someone who’d have to live with that…”

Y/N shook her head. “He leaves the bodies he’s been possessing alive for that…” she pulled her laptop out, searching through the articles Sam dug up and sent over.

Elijah furrowed his brows. “The demon’s never left anyone alive before according to the patterns here,” he said leafing through pages.

“No,” Y/N added. “It’s left a trail of bodies - all the same way. Possessing one person, slaughtering the family and leaving the host in the next town to live with the memories of what they did.”

Dean dove into the pie, doing his best thinking while chewing.

“Unless there’s a second demon,” Y/N said. She turned her laptop, surveillance footage Sam had sent over paused on the screen. Two members of the Walter family at a gas station just outside of town, their eyes pitch black.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean tossed some cash onto the table, hopping up with Y/N and Elijah right behind him.

*****

“We’ll take two rooms,” Dean said holding up his fingers as he tossed the credit card onto the counter.

The motel clerk looked over the three of them, his eyes glazed over but curious as he took their appearance in.

They were all disheveled. Y/N had a cut on her lip and a bruise on her cheekbone. Dean’s eyebrow had a gash caked with dried blood on his forehead, and his jaw had taken a few hits. He moved slowly, his shoulder in rough condition.

Elijah on the other hand looked nearly pristine, though his tie was loose, his jacket off. His sleeves were rolled up, the shirt carrying blood spatters.

“Rough night?” The clerk asked dryly.

Y/N rolled her eyes and Dean nodded sarcastically when he spoke. “Yea, we’re into MMA. Two rooms.”

The clerk swiped the card and tossed a key to them.

Dean caught it with ease, and when he glanced down in his hand he sighed. “Two.”

The clerk shrugged. “I got one left tonight.”

“Whatever,” Y/N sighed, defeated. She grabbed the key from Dean’s hand and headed outside, not waiting for the clerk to give direction or for the guys. The cool night air hit her face and she shut her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling on her skin. She sighed, her body relaxing knowing the fight was over. She walked toward the edge of the building and up the staircase, following it to the room that matched the number on her key and unlocked the door. She flipped the switch and stepped inside, her duffel bag over her shoulder.

Dean and Elijah entered behind her. Dean tossed his duffel onto one of the double beds, making himself at home while Elijah glanced around, taking it all in.

“There’s a bar across the street,” Dean noted as he leaned back into the mattress. “Showers and then we can go unwind?”

“Sounds like a plan, I’m first.” Y/N made a beeline line to the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

She let the hot spray of the water loosen her tight muscles and work over the new bruises, knowing she’d feel it tomorrow, but she had had worse. They had a hell of a night, but if all she had to pay were a few cuts and bruises for two less demons in the world, she’d gladly pay it.

Elijah shifted, listening to Y/N in the shower, and Dean’s heart rate kick up. He looked around the room and Dean scoffed.

“If you need it, I’m sure there’s a Hilton or a Four Seasons or something you can find. Y/N and I will gladly give you your space,” he prodded as he opened a beer that he pulled from his cooler.

Elijah ignored the jab. “You and Y/N work like a well oiled machine,” he commented. He had observed them throughout the day and watched them on the hunt. Elijah had been unable to enter the home, but he was able to watch from the sidelines. As frustrating as that had been, he was in awe of Y/N and her strength.

He was also very aware of how she and Dean moved together, anticipating the other’s movements.

Dean took a swig of his beer. “She’s a damn good hunter,” he replied.

The Original nodded, humming to himself in agreement. “She excels at anything she puts her mind to. If I’m being honest, it’s not quite the life I pictured for her.”

“And what exactly is it that you pictured, Elijah? You’d turn her into a bloodsucker like you?”

He said nothing, his hand running along the table as he continued to look around the room before meeting Dean’s stare.

The water shut off and he listened to the droplets rolling down her skin, her feet hitting the tile of the bathroom floor.

“Tell me, Dean,” Elijah carefully placed his suit jacket on the back of the chair, taking a seat at the small table. “Is this what you want for her?” He held his hands up, gesturing toward the two star motel room.

Dean looked down at his beer bottle and his eyes crinkled with a sad smile. “Hey man, no coin slot on the bed, we’re doing alright tonight,” he joked. When Elijah didn’t laugh Dean swallowed. “Look...this life - a hunter’s life - it isn’t something I’d wish on anyone,” his voice dropped and his face was serious as he met Elijah’s eyes. “Y/N deserves it all, the fenced in yard, the porch and the dog...she deserves the apple pie life,” he admitted, his voice rough. “This isn’t an easy life. It’s not even a good one, but I’m sure you know as well as I do that once she decides something there’s no talking her out of it.”

It was the first thing he had said that they had both agreed on.

“Alright Winchester, you’re up,” Y/N came out of the bathroom dressed in black leggings and a plaid shirt, dabbing the ends of her hair with a towel.

Dean stood and placed his beer on the nightstand, grabbing his bag and disappearing into the bathroom.

Y/N combed her hair, aware of Elijah’s eyes on her. She reached toward the back and winced, her muscles sore and refusing to cooperate. As she stretched they protested and she sighed, tossing the hairbrush onto the bed. “Well, looks like I’m going to feel that tomorrow,” she muttered.

Elijah stood and picked up the hairbrush, turning it in his hands. “May I?” He held the brush up in question.

“Umm, yea, thanks,” her voice was soft and unsure. She turned and he combed through the wet strands of her hair gently, taking care to untangle the knots in the back that she couldn’t reach.

He leaned over her, placing the brush on the dresser in front of her, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror. He pulled her hair behind her, off of her neck, and traced the soft skin with the tips of his fingers before taking a step back.

She turned then, and he ran his thumb below the bruise on her cheekbone, studying her face. He glanced down at the cut on her lip and smiled shyly as he listened to her heart racing in her chest.

She was nervous. And he liked that he still had some effect on her.

He shoved the thought aside. “Are you alright?” He asked.

She nodded, her tongue darting out over her lips. “I’m good,” she laughed nervously. “I’ve had way worse.”

He hated the thought of her like this, bruised and broken, but he admired her strength - how she had met it head on, refusing to back down. “I can help you with this,” he offered, his eyes moving to her lips again.

She shook her head gently at his offer, knowing he meant his blood. “It’s probably not a great idea,” she whispered.

He nodded. “Y/N,” he shifted his weight, his nerves building, but he needed to know. “Why?”

“Why what?” She asked, but she knew. He wanted to know why she had left him, why she had turned her back on the life they had built together. Why she had given up on always and forever.

His eyes searched hers and she swallowed, shifting away from him.

“Elijah, this was only going to go one way,” she began to explain.

He shook his head, cutting her off. “Always and forever,” he reminded her.

“Until when? Until I was old and gray? And you were still you? Or until I was - I was a monster?”

He stepped back as if she had hit him. “Is that what you believe? That I’m a monster?”

She shook her head, stepping toward him and placing her hands on her face until he looked at her. “No, Elijah. You are _not_ a monster,” she bit her lip, searching for the words to make him understand. “God, _I loved you_ , more than you will ever know.”

He pulled her hands from his face, shaking his head.

Loved.

“No need to explain,” he said, turning away.

She grabbed his arm, but he pulled out of her grip with ease, heading for the door. “Elijah, wait,” she called, but he was gone.

She sighed and turned, her eyes watering with tears, and she caught a glimpse of Dean standing in the doorway to the bathroom, his jeans hanging low and a toothbrush hanging out his mouth.

“What the hell was that?” He asked, toothpaste building in the corner of his mouth.

She sighed and flopped onto the bed. “Put on your shirt, I need a drink.”

*****

An hour later Y/N was loosening up and doing her best to forget about Elijah. Hell, she thought she’d be good at it by now, because she spent the better part of a year doing this exact thing, but here she was, back to square one.

She poured back another beer, sliding her empty bottle towards Dean and swiping his full one.

“Maybe we should slow down, sweetheart?” He suggested, reaching for his bottle.

She moved it out of his reach. “Oh come on Dean, I’m fine. You’re fine. We saved the world, _again_ , let’s celebrate.”

He sighed, signaling the bartender to bring him another beer. “You’re not fine, and we aren’t celebrating. World’s not even saved yet, we still have Empusa.”

She rolled her eyes. “It never ends, does it?” Before he could answer she shot up off the barstool. “Fuck it! I’m gonna go hustle some cash for fun, and then we can get out of here.”

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back towards him. “Baby, as fun as that sounds, maybe tonight’s not your night.”

She shrugged him off. “Dean, seriously, lighten up.” She moved past him, crossing the room and striking up a conversation with a few guys at the pool table.

It wasn’t long before Dean looked over to find her bent over a table, some jackass leaning over her “teaching” her how to shoot. He rolled his eyes and swigged his beer. She had them eating out of the palm of her hand, and they didn’t even know it. She was going to clean up over there, and that jackass grinding against her butt would be pissed.

“What on earth is she doing?” Elijah growled from behind him.

Dean signaled for another beer and slid it across to Elijah. “Have a seat, enjoy the show,” he said sarcastically.

Elijah watched her twirl her hair before bending over the table, giving the men who were blatantly staring a perfect view of her chest from across the table. He listened in to her, giggling and making poor shots before suggesting they up the stakes.

When one gentleman made the suggestion that if he won he got to take her home, it took all the control he had not to go over and rip his heart out.

Dean didn’t need to hear to know what was happening. He had witnessed it firsthand many times. “I taught her everything I know, she’ll be fine.”

Elijah turned his angry stare on Dean. “How noble…”

“Killing monsters doesn’t exactly pay the bills,” he shrugged.

“Of course not,” Elijah said dryly. He sipped the beer in front of him, preferring bourbon, but it would do.

“So you wanna tell me what happened between the two of you?” Dean pried. “Cause from where I’m sitting you guys are carrying a whole lot of baggage.”

Elijah turned his lips up into a tight smile, his eyes narrowing. “Not particularly.”

The question had been nagging at him for days, and maybe it was the beer, or the exhaustion setting in, but he finally pushed. “Do you love her?”

Elijah was quiet, his eyes on Y/N’s movements. He took another sip of the beer, glancing at the label before turning his attention to the hunter. “Do you?” He asked.

Dean chuckled, shaking his head at his damn luck and finished his beer. “Hunters don’t really get that luxury,” he admitted. “There’s no room for it.”

“And yet…”

Dean nodded and clenched his jaw.

Elijah turned his attention back to Y/N. “She’s easy to love,” he said quietly.

“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “Yeah, she is.”

Y/N sank the eight ball in a corner pocket and held out her hand to collect her winnings, a victorious grin on her face. The man she had flirted and toyed with shook his head, arguing as he realized he was hustled and she shrugged. Dean didn’t need to hear the conversation, he knew how it played out. The guy grabbed Y/N by the wrist, yanking her forward roughly and as Elijah stood Dean placed his hand on his chest, stopping him.

“Just wait,” he said.

Elijah growled in frustration but watched as Y/N slammed her free hand into the man’s elbow, breaking his hold on her wrist and twisting his arm around. She kicked in his knee so he dropped, landing face first on the pool table as she yanked his arm up higher, her elbow digging into his back and holding him in place.

“I taught her that, too,” Dean grinned proudly.

The man pleaded for mercy, and when she let go he stood, handing her the money and walking away with a shouted “Bitch!” and a bruised ego.

She pocketed the cash and stepped outside into the alley through a side door.

“We can meet her out front,” Dean said, tossing cash onto the bar. “We let this guy know we’re with her,” he tossed his head towards the pool player’s direction, “and suddenly him and his buddies aren’t so willing to walk away.”

Elijah rolled his eyes. “Children,” he muttered.

*****

Y/N stepped into the crisp evening, shaking out her limbs that were still stiff from the fight. She was more than ready to call it a night, but she needed to find Elijah. Despite the drinking, she wasn’t able to shake their earlier conversation.

She knew Dean would be waiting by the Impala, and as she made her way toward the parking lot a man stepped into view.

She narrowed her eyes, his figure familiar. As he stepped into view, the neon light from the bar fell across his features, illuminating his face. “Tyler?” She widened her eyes and grinned. “What the hell are you doing here?”

His eyes were angry, his jaw set.

“You okay?”

“How could you?” He growled, moving closer.

She furrowed her brows in confusion. “What are you talking about? Tyler what’s wrong?”

“She was your friend!” He yelled, his eyes shifting yellow.

Y/N threw her hands up defensively, backing up slowly. “Tyler calm down. What happened?”

His chest heaved and he growled. “ _You_ happened!” He shouted, lunging forward and jacking her up against the brick wall behind her.

She felt a crack and she winced, all the air in her lungs rushing out. She struggled, gasping for air. “Tyler!” She choked. “Tyler stop it!” She kicked out, but he was too strong. He ripped into her neck with his fangs, and before she could scream Elijah was there.

He ripped the hybrid off of her, tossing him against the dumpster, the metal bending and groaning from the sheer force of the impact. Elijah ignored him, turning his attention to Y/N as she dropped to the ground.

She turned, trying to push herself up. “Elijah!” She warned, but Tyler’s teeth had already sunken into Elijah’s shoulder.

Elijah growled, pulling Tyler over his shoulder with force, slamming him down to the ground and shoving his fist in his chest.

“Elijah, no!” Y/N yelled.

He stopped, his fingers wrapped around the hybrid’s heart in a vice grip. He turned his attention to Y/N, her Y/E/C eyes pleading for Tyler’s life.

Just then Dean rushed around the corner, and as he took in the scene before him he ran to Y/N’s side, pulling her up onto her feet.

Elijah looked at Tyler, wincing and writhing beneath him. He grit his teeth, trying to pull air into his lungs.

Elijah released him, his bloody hand gripping his jaw as he stood, pulling Tyler up with him. “Please, tell me why I should let your pathetic existence continue, Tyler Lockwood.”

“You know this guy?” Dean asked.

Y/N nodded, pulling her flannel off and revealing a black cami beneath. She bunched up the shirt, holding it against her neck. “He’s my friend,” she croaked.

“We really gotta talk about your choice in friends,” Dean groaned.

*****

Elijah shoved Tyler into the motel room with force, pushing him down into the wooden chair by the table.

Dean followed, unrolling a bag of syringes full of vervain. He placed a stake beside it, and a gun. “Silver bullets,” he said smugly.

Tyler growled. “It won’t kill me,” he laughed.

Dean shrugged. “I don’t need to kill you. I just need you to hurt.”

Y/N walked in, heading straight for the bathroom to patch herself up, Tyler’s eyes following her. “She was your friend!” He shouted as she closed the door behind her.

Y/N ripped the door back open. “What the hell are you even talking about, Tyler?” She screamed. “ _I_ was your friend. _Me_.”

Elijah glanced between them curiously, an idea slowly forming.

“I’m talking about Caroline.”

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh. She was tired and she had no fight left in her. “What about her?”

Tyler shook his head, tears beginning to well up, his body beginning to shake. “You killed her. You hunted her like some sort of monster, and you killed her!”

Y/N’s heart jumped to her throat. “Caroline’s dead?”

“Empusa,” Elijah breathed.


	8. Chapter Eight

“Y/N?” Dean snapped his fingers in front of her face, drawing her attention.

She blinked, her eyes focusing. “She can’t be dead…”

“Who is Caroline?”

“Caroline Forbes,” Elijah chimed in as if that explained things. “Tyler, what makes you believe Y/N killed her?”

Tyler reached into his pocket and Dean turned at the movement, raising his gun straight at him. “I’d think twice before doing anything that’ll get you killed,” he growled.

Tyler paused his movements, glancing at Elijah, who gave a slight nod. “Relax,” he said, pulling out his phone. He pulled up a video, tossing the device to Y/N. She glanced down and furrowed her eyebrows. When she met Tyler’s angry gaze he raised his chin. “Watch it.”

She hit play - the video carried no audio, but there, clear as day she saw Caroline. She was tied to a chair, the ropes digging into her skin. Even on the small screen Y/N could tell the ropes had been drenched with vervain - the skin underneath them red and angry. The vampire lifted her head, tears streaming down her eyes, and it looked like she was begging.

Her eyes were trained on something off camera, and fear flooded them as a figure stepped into view.

Y/N.

She walked over to Caroline, and pointed a wooden stake at the camera, a wicked grin on her face.

Caroline cried out as the stake was plunged through her stomach, and Y/N glanced away from the phone as this duplicate of herself, Empusa, tortured the vampire.

“Keep watching,” Tyler growled.

She looked up again to see this twisted version of herself standing over Caroline Forbe’s lifeless body, her heart in her hands as she smirked, approaching the camera. She disappeared from view, the lens shifting in and out of focus on Caroline until the screen went black.

Y/N held her hand over her mouth in shock. “Tyler, that wasn’t me...I would never…” she couldn’t even finish her sentence, her mind reeling at the loss of her friend.

Elijah sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, and Dean reached for the phone.

“From where I’m sitting, _you_ killed her,” Tyler’s eyes burned and his jaw clenched. He was white knuckled, his fingers digging into the arms of the chair.

“I would never hurt her!” Y/N shouted, her blood boiling. She slumped down onto the mattress, feeling tired and defeated.

Elijah moved between them, keeping his eyes on the hybrid.

“And if you think I’m capable of that, you don’t know me at all,” she said, her voice as broken as she felt.

The Original turned, taking her in. “Y/N, you’ve lost a lot of blood,” he commented.

She shook her head, and he knew she was declining his blood before he even offered. “There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom,” she muttered, kicking off her shoes.

Elijah nodded and disappeared for a moment.

“Whatever that is, it isn’t your friend,” Dean said, studying the phone.

Y/N furrowed her brow. “What are you talking about?”

Elijah came back, listening as he carefully bandaged the wound on Y/N’s neck.

Dean’s eyes were trained on the video, playing it back again and again when he finally hit pause. “There,” he said tilting the screen towards Y/N. “Look at her eyes.”

“That’s a shapeshifter,” Y/N said.

“What are you saying?” Tyler asked.

Dean tossed the phone back to him. “I’m saying that’s not your little girlfriend.”

Tyler looked down at the phone, his eyes beginning to water as he tried to fight off the hope that began to unfurl in his chest, not sure he could survive losing it - losing _her -_ again.

Y/N winced at Elijah’s touch. “Forgive me,” he said as he finished the bandage.

She turned to thank him, caught off guard by the heat of his gaze. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He nodded, smiling softly before standing. “So, Mr. Winchester, what would Empusa want with a shapeshifter”

Dean shrugged. “Dunno, but whatever it is, it can’t be good.”

Tyler shut his eyes in relief. “You didn’t kill her?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “No, Tyler. I didn’t kill her.”

Tyler stopped fighting off the hope, embracing it and holding on as tightly as he could. “She’s not dead,” he choked, the tears beginning to flow freely. “She’s not dead.”

“We don’t know that,” Y/N snapped.

Tyler shook his head, refusing to believe anything else.

“Where’d you get the video?” Dean asked.

Tyler gathered himself, clearing his head. “I thought Y/N sent it to me…”

He showed the number the text came in on and Y/N rolled her eyes. “That’s not my number, Ty.”

“Yea, well, you haven’t bothered to reach out in years, what was I supposed to think?” He snapped.

Dean ignored their bickering, jotting the number down on a pad of paper from the nightstand. “Maybe Sam can trace it,” he said before pulling out his phone and stepping out of the room.

“Mr. Lockwood, I suggest you head back to Mystic Falls before I change my mind,” Elijah said. When Tyler didn’t move Elijah placed his hand into his pocket casually, squaring his shoulders. “Let me be clear - this is a threat.”

Tyler looked to Y/N who shook her head. “Just go, Tyler.”

“I’m sorry,” he offered before disappearing.

Y/N sighed and placed her head in her hands. Elijah sat down next to her. “You need rest,” he said.

She turned to look at him, resting her face in the palm of her hand. “Story of my life,” she sighed.

Elijah tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and she closed her eyes at the touch, breathing him in. She had missed this, more than she cared to admit.

She sat up, her eyes flicking to his shoulder, asking for permission. He gave a slight nod, and she leaned forward, pulling his shirt away to get a look at the bite Tyler had left behind. She grit her teeth. “That’s bad,” she winced.

“I’ll survive,” he said, the corner of his lip turning up sadly.

“We should get you back to the bunker. You need Klaus’ blood.”

Their eyes met, and they both froze at the closeness. She released his shirt, her hand hovering over his chest for a moment, unsure. His hand came up, enveloping hers and holding it to his chest and she took a sharp breath.

When he opened his mouth to speak, Dean stepped back into the room and Y/N dropped her hand, scooting away from him.

“So Klaus and Sam are headed to Virginia, they think they’ve got a trace on the number,” he said, completely oblivious to what he had walked in on.

Elijah sighed. “Niklaus is going to Mystic Falls.”

“But it’s a trap,” Y/N argued. “And he can’t just run off to Mystic Falls right now, Tyler _bit you_. You need Klaus’ blood and we’re still a day out from the bunker, our best bet is to have him meet us halfway...”

Elijah nodded and cut her off. “I’ll be fine. Niklaus needs to see it for himself. I can’t say I blame him,” he said, meeting her gaze.

If it were Y/N instead of Caroline, he’d cross oceans to get to her.

“Remind me again why we let that little son of a bitch go?” Dean asked as he glanced around the room to find Tyler gone.

Y/N sighed. “Because he may be an ass sometimes, but he’s my friend.”

“Yea you mentioned that…”

“Dean, drop it, please,” she blinked slowly, taking a breath as she stood. She shuffled across the carpet, opening her duffle bag and pulling out an old band T-shirt she had stolen from one of the guys, tossing it over her cami. She began to sway slightly on her feet, her vision spotting.

“Okay, that’s enough, sit down,” Dean pulled her toward the chair, forcing her to take a seat.

She swatted him away lazily, but before she could argue Elijah cut in. “Y/N your heart rate is dropping rapidly. You’ve lost a lot of blood….”

She shook her head.

“As much as I hate to admit it, you need his help. Take it,” Dean grimaced, kneeling in front of her.

“I just need to rest a minute.”

“It’s not up for debate, so either you take his blood, or I’ll force it down your throat myself,” Dean growled.

Elijah bit into his wrist, holding it out to her and she shook her head again. “I can’t,” she whispered.

Elijah turned away and Dean stood, spinning him around angrily. “Give it to her,” he boomed. “She’s losing too much blood!”

“I can’t force her to drink from me. Perhaps we should take her to a hospital.”

“We can’t just waltz into a hospital with her looking like this,” Dean argued. “Not without drawing attention.”

Y/N pulled off the bandage on her neck slowly, realizing she was already bleeding through it. She winced as the air hit the wound. She stood to reach for another bandage, and her legs gave out, her body too tired to fight sleep any longer.

*****

_Y/N clawed at her neck, desperate for the pain to stop. Her skin burned, and she felt as if her throat was coated in sand paper._

_She knew what this was._

_Hunger._

_She listened, blood pumping through veins, the gentle thump of a heart._

Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump.

_Her mouth watered and her eyes went dark. She felt her gums tear, fangs pushing through painfully, ready to hunt._

Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump.

_She followed the sound, the only thought in her mind was to satisfy the hunger…_

*****

“Hey, can you hear me?” Dean’s face slowly came in to view as Y/N blinked rapidly.

She sat up, glancing around the room. She was still in the motel. “What happened?”

“You fainted.”

She sighed, reaching for her neck to find the wound gone. She ran her fingers over her face in a panic, the skin along her cheekbone no longer tender when she touched it, her lips smooth where it had been cut earlier. “What did you do?” She asked, her eyes searching.

“I fed you my blood.” Elijah explained.

Y/N shot up, angry tears streaming down her face. “I said no!”

“Y/N,” Dean started, but she shoved him away.

She felt her head begin to pound and knew it was happening again - the visions she had been trying so hard to keep at bay. She also knew she wasn’t willing to let Dean and Elijah make anymore decisions for her. She stormed out, slamming the motel door behind her without another word. She made it down to the pool before the pain became blinding, and she held her head, desperate for relief.

*****

_As she pulled the blood through her lips she felt relief. She let out a heavy breath, euphoria washing over her._

_She glanced down at her lap, the lifeless body laying before her. The guilt slammed into her as she realized what she had done. She lifted her hands, studying her fingers, her limbs beginning to shake as she saw the blood on them._

_Her vision blurred, and she blinked rapidly, looking down once more when suddenly she recognized the body beneath her._

_“No, no, no,” she panicked, turning his face and shaking him. But he didn’t move, and she knew it was because she had drained every ounce of him trying to calm the insatiable hunger._

_She had killed Sam Winchester._

*****

Y/N shot her eyes open, gasping for breath. She was leaning against a cement pillar by the pool and she steadied herself, catching her breath. She blinked tears she didn’t realize she was crying away, the pain subsiding and her world calming once more.

“I did what I had to do,” Elijah’s voice startled her.

She stood crossing her arms over her chest, anger rolling over her in waves. “You did what I asked you specifically _not_ to do.”

“What would you have me do?” He boomed, his jaw set as his own frustration quickly rose.

“I don’t know, listen to me?” She raised her own voice, matching his. “Taken me to the hospital, stitched me up like a normal human being?” She shouted.

“You didn’t have time! I was not going to sit back and watch you die,” he argued.

She huffed, not having an argument for that. She didn’t want to die, but she didn’t want to become a monster, either - and if her visions, dreams, whatever, were anything to go by it’s exactly where she was headed. She moved to storm past Elijah, but he gripped her arm spinning her around.

“I didn’t have a choice,” his tone was harsh and absolute, his eyes narrowing.

“There’s always a choice,” she snapped, angry tears burning in her eyes.

“Everything okay down here?” Dean appeared, his eyes hard as he took in Elijah’s stance.

Elijah cleared his throat, nodding before releasing his grip, turning on his heel and walking away.

Y/N bit her lip, bouncing her foot anxiously as she wiped the tears from her face. She turned, hiding from Dean and watching as the moonlight reflected off the pale blue water of the pool. She wanted to tell Elijah everything, make him understand - she wanted to stop hurting him - hurting herself - but she didn’t know how.

Dean said nothing as he walked up to her, his thumb turning her chin until she looked up at him. He kissed her forehead sweetly, and she leaned into his chest, no longer able to hold back the sobs that wracked her body.

He tucked her head under his chin, wrapping his arms around her as she cried. He hated when she cried. He watched her push herself to the limit, run toward the problem time and time again. He had seen her bent and bruised. That Y/N he knew what to do with. He had helped bandage her up, stitched the wounds back together piece by piece - but this...

This was hurting in a way he didn’t know how to fix, and it killed him.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered into his chest.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” he whispered. She pulled back to look at him, and he glanced down at the damp spot on his shirt. “Except maybe ruining one of my favorite shirts,” he teased.

She smacked him, fisting the fabric in her hand. “Shut up, Dean,” she laughed.

“There she is,” his eyes crinkled at the corners, his smile soft.

She froze, relaxing her fist and splaying her hand onto his chest, feeling the heartbeat under her palm, and she swallowed.

Dean leaned down slowly, kissing her tentatively and suddenly a vision of an entire life flashed before her eyes.

It wasn’t the apple pie life Dean talked about - but it was something, and she grasped onto it for dear life. Suddenly she was deepening the kiss, opening up to him and urging him on as she leaned up on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He pushed at her hips until she loosened her grip, breaking away from the kiss. “Sweetheart, as much as I’d love to do that right now, and I can’t believe I’m about to say this-“

“Then don’t,” she breathed, pulling him down and crashing her lips to his once more.

Dean hated that this was a distraction for her. A temporary relief to the pain she hadn’t been able to sort out yet. Yet there he was kissing her back like his life depended on it. He could never deny her anything, and he finally understood why.

He was in love with her.

“Dean,” she panted between kisses, pulling at his belt.

He groaned, pushing her to the pillar and pinning her with his hips. He leaned himself into her, his hard length pressing into her abdomen as he continued to kiss her fervently.

Her fingers pulled at his belt desperately and when her hand reached into his pants, rubbing him through the fabric of his boxer briefs, he knew he had no chance of putting a stop to it.

If he were being honest with himself, he had lost that battle ages ago.

He pressed into her palm as his hands cupped her face and he kissed her desperately. He poured everything he had into it, wanting nothing more than to make her forget everything outside of this moment - outside of _them_.

He didn’t know how to fix her, but this - _this_ was familiar territory for him. This he knew how to do.

His hands dropped to her waist, slipping under the hem of her shirt, his lips traveling down her neck. She moaned as she reached into the waistband of his boxers, her fist closing around him. Dean groaned, breathing heavily into the crook of her neck, one of his hands coming up to steady himself against the pillar.

“Baby,” his breath moved over her skin. She pumped him a few times, and he rested his head on her shoulder, biting his lip as he tried to steady his breathing. He gripped her hip tightly before sliding his hand down into her leggings, his fingers finding her ready for him. He lifted his head, watching her face as he teased her clit, memorizing the way she came undone at his touch.

“Dean,” she moaned. He kissed her hard, swallowing her moans and keeping her quiet. “I need you,” she panted between kisses.

“Fuck,” he whispered into her ear. “You’ve got me, sweetheart,” he confessed. He wondered if she realized the weight of his words, but moved before he let them settle over her, pulling at her leggings and panties, shoving them down. He lost all his senses, not caring that they were out in the open, figuring the old band T-shirt of his (that she looked damn good in) was long enough to cover her from anyone should they get caught.

Y/N slipped one leg out, and he bent, his large hands gripping the backs of her thighs as he picked her up. She held onto him, her arms wrapped around his neck, kissing anywhere she could reach.

She tightened her legs around him, trying to pull him closer. He braced himself with one hand, his other hand reaching between them and lining himself up. His cock teased her folds and she nipped his lip, silently begging him for more.

He pulled his face back, his green eyes searching her for a sign that he should stop, that it was too much too soon. Her eyeliner was slightly smudged from crying, her hair tousled in waves around her. Her Y/E/C eyes held a sadness that left an ache in his chest, and he knew in his gut this would break him.

But she was so damn beautiful and he’d do anything to drown out that sadness, even if for a moment.

He pressed into her, bottoming out with a groan as she threw her head back. He took the opportunity to kiss her neck, biting and sucking against the smooth delicate column as he began to move.

She held onto him, the cement from the pillar pressing into her shoulders. Her nails dug into his back, grasping for purchase. She pulled him in tighter against her with her foot, urging him on.

Dean reached between them, working his fingers over her clit and she cried out. He kissed her hard, silencing her, and while a part of him worried someone would hear them, the larger part of him didn’t care. He was so far gone for this woman he wasn’t sure he’d ever be the same.

He parted their lips, gasping for air and they shared a breath. He thrust into her again and again and when her walls finally clamped down around him he came. She followed him, hiding her face in his neck to stay silent as he slowed his movements.

He slipped out of her, groaning at the loss, and placed her legs back on the ground carefully, holding her hips until she regained her balance. He dipped low, fixing her pants quickly so she wouldn’t be seen, and when he came back up he pressed his forehead to hers.

“Y/N….” he began, unsure what it was he was trying to say. He brushed her hair back away from her face and traced the strands down to her neck. His fingers followed the neckline of his old T-shirt, a feeling of pride flooding him knowing the fabric hugging her body had once belonged to him.

He stopped when his fingers hit the chain on her necklace, and he felt her tense. He pulled his forehead away, looking at her as he pulled it out from her shirt so he could see the locket hanging from her neck.

He glanced down and clenched his jaw, cursing himself for getting wrapped up in her - knowing it was too late.

“Dean,” she placed her hand on his but he pulled away, dropping the locket against her chest.

“We should get some rest,” he stepped away from her, fixing himself, waiting for her to say something - anything.

She nodded. “Yea,” she said. “It’s been a long day.”

He didn’t wait for her as he walked back to the motel room.

Y/N sighed, sliding down the pillar and hugging her knees wondering what the hell she was doing.

She sat there for a few minutes, watching the water of the pool rippling softly. She took a deep breath, deciding that anything with Dean or Elijah could wait until after they figured out what to do about Empusa.

Right now, she was a hunter with a job to do.

*****

“Whoa buddy, you don’t look so good,” Dean said as he entered the room to find Elijah laying on one of the beds, sweat beading across his forehead. His breath came in heavy pants and Dean moved towards him carefully.

Elijah coughed, attempting to sit up. “I’m fine,” he growled. But as he stood he swayed and Dean reached out instinctively to catch his balance.

When Dean’s hand touched his arm he caught a glimpse of Elijah’s mind and jumped back, startled. “What the hell was that?”

Elijah swatted Dean away, and when he glanced up it was as if he was looking through him. “Niklaus….” he panted.

Dean put his hands up defensively. “Wrong guy…”

Elijah stood once more, his eyes focusing. “Forgive me,” he said, coughing once more. “Werewolf venom.”

Dean nodded. “I thought you guys were immune to everything.”

“It will heal,” Elijah explained. “The fever will run its course.”

“What the hell was that when I touched you?” Dean asked, his mind trying to wrap around what he saw.

Elijah moved to the small table, pouring himself a drink. “A memory.”

“Right,” Dean trailed off uncomfortably.

Elijah downed his drink and placed his glass on the table, heading towards the bed once more and dropping to the mattress. His jaw clenched and for a moment, Dean felt badly for the guy.

He grabbed Elijah’s glass, filling it with amber liquid once more and handing it to him. “Drink up,” Dean said.

Elijah opened an eye, reaching out for the glass, but as their hands accidentally touched he lost control once more.

*****

_“Y/N, I pride myself on my patience, but you are testing it,” Elijah groaned playfully. He picked up the trail of clothes Y/N had left strewn about the room, folding them neatly and placing them back where they belonged, a smile tugging at his lips._

_“I’m almost done,” she called from behind the bathroom door. “I just need another minute.”_

_“We are late,” he informed her, glancing at his watch._

_She poked her head out of the bathroom. “This dress looks ridiculous on me,” she grumbled._

_He turned to find her makeup precise, her hair pinned to the side, revealing her neck. He cleared his throat when he realized he hadn’t responded. “You look beautiful,” he breathed._

_She blushed. “Elijah, you’re sweet. But this dress is too much, I feel like a fraud.”_

_He couldn’t imagine anything possibly taking away from her beauty. “Let me see,” he whispered._

_She sighed and glanced down. “Promise not to laugh.”_

_“You have my word.”_

_When she stepped out in a sleek red off the shoulder gown his heart stopped._

_It was clearly his sister’s doing - it was a number Y/N would never pick for herself. It was bold and revealing, hugging her body, showing her off. Elijah’s eyes trailed over her, taking it all in._

_“Say something,” she said._

_His eyes met hers, and she watched as his lips parted, his tongue darting out. “You are exquisite,” he whispered._

_She blushed under his gaze. “It’s too much…”_

_He stepped toward her, reaching out to pull her into him, his lips crashing to hers and silencing her protests about the gown._

_She grinned into his kiss as his hands roamed down her open back, his fingertips leaving a trail of heat behind. “Elijah,” she giggled, pushing on his chest. “We’re going to be late.”_

_He kissed just below her ear. “Mmm,” he mumbled into her skin. “We’re already late.”_

_She melted under his touch. “All the more reason we should go,” she sighed._

_Elijah pulled back to look at her, his thumb rubbing her cheek, a playful smile beginning to form on his lips. “Oh, sweet Y/N - that dress will not be making it out of this room in one piece.”_

_She yelped as he bent and threw her over his shoulder. “Elijah,” she laughed._

_He tossed her onto their bed, crawling over her, peppering her with kisses anywhere he could. “You drive me crazy,” he said, his lips finding hers once more._

_“Back at you, handsome,” she grinned and pulled on his tie._

_“I love you,” he whispered, his eyes searching hers._

_“I love you,” she returned._

_He leaned to the side, a hand dipping into his jacket pocket. “I had plans to give this to you later this evening,” he pulled out a small rectangular black box._

_She looked between the box and him._

_“Open it,” he grinned._

_She took it from his hands, scooting further up the bed so she sat up. She opened it, taking the simple locket in her hands. “Elijah, it’s beautiful.” She popped the locket open and tears welled in her eyes, his promise of always and forever engraved for her to keep with her always. “I love it.”_

_Elijah helped her with the clasp as she put it on and he kissed her shoulder. “I love you,” he said again. “Always and forever.”_

_She turned her face, leaning back into him. “Always and forever,” she promised._

*****

Dean dropped the glass, the memory he unwillingly intruded in on not one he particularly cared to see. “Would you knock it off?” He groaned.

Elijah winced. “Forgive me…”

“Yeah whatever,” Dean grumbled, picking up the glass and moving away from him.

The door opened and Y/N entered, her eyes not meeting Dean as she ran her hand through her hair. She glanced at Elijah, and Dean didn’t miss the concern that crossed her features.

She moved to his side, her hands hovering just over his as if she were reaching for him before realizing he wasn’t hers to reach for. “Elijah,” she sighed.

The vampire shook her concern away. “I’ll be fine. You two should rest, Mystic Falls is a long drive.”

Dean shrugged, plopping down onto the second mattress. “We leave at dawn, which gives us four hours. So I suggest sweating it out, buddy.”

“Dean,” Y/N shot him a look. “He’s not going to be able to go anywhere in four hours.” She had been through this before, it would last twelve (if they were lucky).

Dean rested with his arms behind his head, adjusting so he sunk further into the mattress as he closed his eyes. “Then you and I will go ahead, Elijah can meet us in Virginia.”

Elijah nodded reassuringly at her. “I’ll be fine, get some rest,” he said.

She scooted onto Elijah’s bed, sliding next to him so she was leaning against the headboard.

“Y/N,” he began to protest, knowing she had no intentions of sleeping. His breathing picked up, the fever taking over.

“Shh,” she whispered. “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

Dean didn’t miss her tone - she was telling him she wouldn’t leave Elijah in that condition. Anger rose in his chest, and he turned away from them, too tired to argue. He only had four hours until he had to be on the road, so he let sleep take him.

*****

An hour later, Elijah’s breathing quickened - startling Y/N as she finally began to doze off. She shifted, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and turning to see Elijah struggling as though he was having a nightmare.

She glanced at Dean, whose snoring filled the silence, before turning back to Elijah. He was breaking into a sweat, and she reached over, brushing his hair back with her fingers. “Elijah?” She whispered sweetly to see if she’d get a response.

He turned his face towards her, and for a moment she thought he had heard her, but if he did he gave no other indication. His eyes were shut, and his labored breathing continued. His hands were at his side, his fists clenching the fabric of the blanket beneath him.

Y/N continued to run her hand through his hair, the soft chestnut locks passing through her fingers gently. “You’re okay, Elijah,” she whispered.

“Y/N,” he gasped, his eyes still tightly shut.

“I’m here,” she said, finding her hand and squeezing. His breathing calmed for a moment, and she wondered what he was dreaming of.

“Don’t leave,” he pleaded.

Her heart clenched and she began to cry softly. She sniffled as he turned, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’m not leaving,” she promised.

 _You can’t stay forever,_ the voice in her head reminded her - but she’d stay until the fever broke. She owed him that much.

*****

An hour later Y/N woke. She glanced at the clock, unsure of how long she had slept for, when she noticed she was alone on the bed. There was no heavy breathing next to her, no limbs curled around her, the mattress beside her was cold and empty. She was alone, and other than Dean’s snoring, it was eerily quiet.

She stood slowly, shaking Dean who woke instantly. Before he could ask what was going on she pressed her finger to her lips, signaling him to be quiet.

He nodded, sitting up and grabbing the gun from under his pillow, and she rolled her eyes, knowing it would do no good.

She moved quietly, letting her eyes adjust to the dark, a sliver of moonlight spilling in between the heavy motel curtains.

“Elijah?” She whispered carefully, listening for his movements.

Dean stood and moved closer to Y/N, when suddenly Elijah appeared from the shadows, stalking towards them. Dean raised the gun, his finger on the trigger but Elijah was quicker, backing Dean up into the wall with his hand on his neck, easily disarming him.

“Elijah,” Dean gasped, attempting to break the hold, but he gripped him harder, cutting off his air supply as he lifted him against the wall.

“You will not harm a hair on her head, Niklaus,” he growled, his eyes darkening as his fangs came out.

Y/N moved, pulling at Elijah’s arm. “Elijah! Elijah, I’m fine, I’m here...I’m right here,” she pleaded.

Elijah snarled, turning his attention to her and dropping Dean to the ground. He was angry, and she took a step back knowing it wasn’t her he was seeing. Her knees hit the bed behind her. As he lunged at her, she ducked, rolling her body to the side so Elijah hit the mattress, and she turned grabbing the syringe that had rested on the nightstand, stabbing it into his side.

He struggled, weakened by the vervain, and Y/N rolled him over so he was looking up at her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Elijah’s eyes returned to normal, the anger and hunger dissipating as rapidly as it appeared. “Y/N?” He asked, finally seeing her.

She nodded.

“Forgive me...my mind…” But before he could continue he passed out.

Dean stood and groaned, dragging Elijah’s body off the mattress and tossing him onto his shoulder with a grunt. Y/N moved to help him, pulling the chair out so Dean could set him down. She wasted no time pulling the vervain soaked ropes they had intended for Tyler around Elijah, securing him to the chair.

“That won’t hold him,” she said.

Dean nodded. “It’ll slow him down.” He glanced at the clock. “Might as well hit the road, sun will be up soon.”

She shook her head. “Dean, I can’t leave him like this.”

He said nothing, grabbing his bag and tossing what little he needed to into it.

“Dean…”

He cut her off then, his green eyes sharp and angry. “Don’t,” he snapped. “Are you coming or not?” When she didn’t answer he nodded, his jaw tight. “Right. Jody isn’t too far out, she can get you a car. I’ll meet you in Virginia.”

He headed for the door, and she grabbed his arm as he swung it open, halting his steps. “Dean, I -”

He kept his eyes forward. “It’s fine,” he said. “I’ll text you when I get there.”

She bit her lip, her grip on his arm loosening until it dropped to her side, defeated.

He hesitated for a moment in the doorway before he finally turned to look at her, but this time she didn’t see anger in his eyes - only hurt. He sighed heavily, leaning forward and kissing her temple. “Be safe,” he whispered against her before disappearing.

She listened as Baby roared to life and swept Dean away.

 


	9. Chapter Nine

Elijah groaned, tearing off the vervain ropes (they were more of an annoyance than anything else), and quietly walking to the mirror. He unbuttoned his dress shirt, peeling it away from his body and placing it on the bed before turning to get a good look at his shoulder.

The bite mark Tyler had left had disappeared, the fever gone. The angry red burns left from the vervain faded before him.

He glanced down at his watch. It was already the afternoon, which meant Y/N and Dean should have headed to Mystic Falls.

Only Y/N was still sleeping, Dean nowhere to be found.

He could only assume by the state he found himself in that he had attempted to hurt one or both of them the night before. He sighed, turning to look at Y/N’s sleeping form, amazed at her trust in him.

He had failed her, time and time again. Yet there she was, letting her guard down to a vampire who had lost his mind to fever.

The fact that she didn’t leave with Dean wasn’t lost on him - and though he tried to warn himself it hadn’t meant anything, he couldn’t help the feeling that it meant everything.

Y/N stirred, turning her head as the sunlight peeked through the curtains, burrowing further into her pillow and he felt an ache in his chest. He wondered if there’d ever come a day when he looked at her without it breaking his heart.

He sighed, pulling a clean shirt on and deciding he should wake her - knowing she’d want to get on the road as soon as possible.

The bed dipped as he sat beside her and she rolled over, curling her body around him. He smiled softly, brushing the hair from her face. “Y/N,” he whispered gently, knowing how much she hated waking up.

She protested sleepily, hiding her face against him and her breathing evened out once more as she fell back into a deep sleep.

She let out a soft sigh, and he wondered what it was she was dreaming of when she mumbled his name.

It was so quiet that had he been human, he would have missed it.

He stroked her cheek gently, hesitating for a moment before entering her mind.

*****

_“Elijah!” Y/N turned and beamed at him. She didn’t wait for a response, launching herself into his arms._

_He held her tightly to his chest, wishing more than anything that they could have this. That he could have her._

_She released him, stepping back, and she looked around. They were in the streets of New Orleans. “You came,” she exclaimed._

_He nodded, guilt threatening to overwhelm him at his intrusion._

_“I’m dreaming,” she said._

_It wasn’t a question, but he nodded once more sheepishly._

_She blushed as she took in his appearance - a dark suit, a deep navy blue shirt, and a black tie - her favorite suit. She wondered if he knew and altered his clothes for her, or if it was a product of her own imagination. “I dream of this often,” she admitted, stepping closer once more. She curled her fingers around his, bringing their hands up, her eyes trained on how hers fit perfectly in his. “Of you…”_

_His heartbeat quickened and he swallowed, slamming his eyes shut as her confession washed over him. He leaned his forehead against hers, afraid that if he opened his eyes she’d be gone._

_She let go of his hands, bringing her own up to his face, her thumbs running along the stubble of his jaw. “I miss you so much,” she whispered._

_His eyes burned at her words. Though they should have brought him comfort, even hope, he found no relief. Only more heartache. “Tell me why…” he said. “Why did you leave?”_

_She shook her head slightly, pulling back as she waited for him to look at her. When he opened his eyes she smiled sadly, the sorrow in the depths of his eyes breaking her a little more. She wondered how much more she could take. “It’s a good dream, Elijah. Let’s just enjoy it for a little while.”_

_He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes and nodding silently. When he opened his eyes again she was smiling. “Okay,” he whispered hoarsely._

_She took his hand and led him down the block, the streets filled with noise - people talking, music playing. The sun was beating down on them as they walked hand in hand._

_“I don’t think anywhere has ever felt quite like home as much as New Orleans,” she admitted after a moment. It was true. She considered the bunker for a moment, and even though she had a room, it hadn’t been the same. After all this time she still felt like a wanderer._

_He hummed in agreement. He knew the feeling, though he was certain it was less attached to the city and more rooted in her. New Orleans hadn’t felt like home to him since she walked out of his life._

_She caught whiff of a beignet and grinned, pulling Elijah toward the food cart excitedly. The man working the cart offered her one and she took it with thanks, turning towards Elijah. She took a bite, her face falling. “No matter how many times I dream this, I still can’t seem to get the taste right,” she sighed. She discarded the pastry, moving on, enjoying the feel of the city around her. “It’s strange,” she said. “The little details you never think of until they’re gone. Things you think you couldn’t possibly forget start to fade so quickly.”_

_He stopped walking, placing his hands in his pockets. “What else have you forgotten?” He asked._

_She turned, her cheeks blushing. “You,” her voice was quiet and she turned her eyes away from him. “Before all of this…your voice was fading. And I -,” she swallowed. “I couldn’t remember how you felt, anymore.”_

_He stepped toward her, his hand cupping her face. He wiped a tear from her cheek. “Y/N, look at me.”._

_When she turned her glossy Y/E/C eyes to him the world around them shifted - the streets faded away until they were back in their shared bedroom. She chuckled, embarrassed at the shift. “I always end up here,” she explained._

_He glanced around the room as the corner of his lip turned up. He closed his eyes for a moment, adjusting the details she hadn’t quite gotten right. “That’s more like it,” he said._

_She stepped away from him, looking around the room, running her hands along the dresser. She laughed at the chair in the corner, piled with clothes she had pulled out but changed her mind on. “This is supposed to be my dream, Elijah,” she teased before continuing through the room._

_He had gotten every little detail right, and she wondered how much this place haunted him._

_“I always end up here, too,” he admitted._

_She turned toward him, a sadness in her eyes._

_“We should go,” he said, clearing his throat._

_She walked toward him, entwining their fingers once more. She began to cry softly. “I don’t want to forget.”_

_He furrowed his brows, uncertainty in his eyes. “Y/N…”_

_She leaned up on her toes, kissing the corner of his mouth sweetly. “Please. I just want to remember. Can we just have this for a little while? Before we have to go back?”_

_He turned his face, his lips barely brushing against hers when the harsh buzzing of a phone broke through the haze, the dream fading quickly around them as Y/N awoke._

*****

She shot up in bed, her phone buzzing angrily on the nightstand. She glanced around the dimly lit motel room, surprised to find herself completely alone.

The line between what was real and what was a dream blurred as she wondered if Elijah had really been there at all.

She turned, grabbing her phone and saw Sam’s name light up the screen. “Sam, hey…” she greeted, her voice laced with sleep.

“Hey Y/N,” he responded. “How far out are you guys?”

She sighed, sitting up in bed. “Dean left just before dawn.”

Sam paused for a moment. “You aren’t with him?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “No, not exactly. Elijah was bit and without Klaus’ blood we had to hang back until his fever passed.”

“Right. Well you may want to stay put,” he said.

She furrowed her brows. “Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not sitting this one out, Sam.”

She heard shuffling before another voice cut through. “Damn right you are.”

She groaned. “Hi, Damon.”

“Long time no chat, Buffy.”

She rolled her eyes at the nickname. “I’m no help all the way out here…”

“You’re no help to us dead,” he argued. “Though you’ve done one hell of a job with your little disappearing act, I guess it doesn’t make much difference to me.”

She may have deserved that, but she heard another shuffle and suddenly Stefan’s voice cut through. “Empusa has left a trail of supernatural bodies up and down the east coast, all leading back to Mystic Falls.”

She had missed his voice, and he was perhaps the one person she could talk to about everything - Empusa, hunting, Elijah, Dean…he’d understand it all. She had missed her friend. She brushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. “Alright, so I’m headed out there now,” she said, sliding out of bed and getting dressed as she placed the phone on speaker.

“Y/N, it’s not safe for you,” Stefan’s tone was careful.

She shrugged, stripping off the T-shirt she had slept in and throwing on a bra. “Stefan, it’s not safe for anyone with Empusa out there. Elijah and I will….”

“Slow down, Van Helsing,” Damon groaned. “He forgot to mention she did all this as _you_.”

She froze, understanding dawning. “They want revenge…”

“Doesn’t feel so good to be on the other end of this hunting thing, does it?” He snapped.

She rolled her eyes, ready to argue when Sam cut back in.

“Look, Y/N, I hate to say it but they’re right. Cas and Freya will be here soon, Dean’s on his way…for whatever reason this thing is targeting you, so stay put.” She knew he was right, but she didn’t want to just sit in a motel room waiting for all of her friends to die. “At least until we have a plan,” he added.

“Where’s Klaus?” She asked, changing the subject.

“He found Blondie and got her the hell out of dodge,” Damon said. Though he sounded annoyed, she knew deep down he was just as relieved Caroline was safe as she was.

Elijah walked back into the room, and her skin flushed, realizing she hadn’t put a shirt on yet. “Shit, I gotta go. Call me with any updates,” she said hanging up.

He averted his eyes, which she was grateful for as she pulled on a flannel. “Forgive me, I should have knocked,” he said, holding up a coffee.

She finished buttoning the shirt, reaching out for the coffee gratefully. “Sorry, I was distracted….” she took a sip, the hot liquid burning down her throat, but it made her feel alert.

Or maybe it was Elijah that had her suddenly hyper aware.

“Thank you,” she said.

She wondered briefly if she should bring up the dream, but quickly decided against it.

“I spoke to Niklaus,” he offered. “Caroline’s safe.”

She ran her hand through her hair, attempting to make herself more presentable, hating that she cared at all how she looked when he saw her. “Yea,” she held up her phone. “I just talked to Stefan and Damon, actually.”

He said nothing, instead opening the curtains to let the daylight in and moving further into the room, his gaze piercing hers.

“Turns out Empusa is tracking down and torturing supernatural creatures…as me.”

His jaw ticked, and he furrowed his brow.

She swallowed. “Leaving a trail of evidence straight to Mystic Falls,” she said. “The hunter becomes the hunted.” She moved across the room, throwing her things back in her duffel bag before disappearing into the bathroom.

Elijah waited, frustrated and concerned because he knew he wouldn’t stop her. When she appeared again, her hair combed and her teeth brushed, he stood.

“Let’s go,” she said, determined.

She headed for the door, but as she pulled it open he cut her off, crowding her as he pushed the door shut. “I don’t suppose there is any way to talk you out of this?” He asked.

She turned and glanced up at him. She could see in his face he wouldn’t stop her, but he’d do everything he could to keep her safe. “Elijah, I can’t just sit around while everyone I care about is in danger.”

His jaw tensed and his eyes were hard. “You do not leave my sight, do you understand?”

She nodded, biting back a victorious smile. She could live with that compromise. “Deal,” she agreed. “Now let’s track down a car.”

He took the duffel bag from her shoulder, holding the door open for her. “Already taken care of,” he stated.

She turned and glanced at him over her shoulder, a question on her face when she saw his playful smirk.

“I’ll be driving,” he added.

*****

Y/N sunk further into the plush leather seats. It had been a while since she had sat in anything this luxurious. She ran her hands along the interior of the door, pushing buttons and opening compartments. It was a beautiful car, sleek and new. It drove like a dream, the road smooth beneath her as the engine of the F-Type Jaguar purred quietly.

Elijah chuckled from the driver’s seat beside her, amused with her curiosity and admiration of the vehicle.

“You couldn’t have picked something a little more subtle?” She asked with a raised brow.

He held back a smile, stealing a glance at her before turning his eyes back to the road. “Subtle like your boyfriend’s Impala?” He countered.

She scoffed. “There’s nothing subtle about Baby, either,” she muttered. “And he’s not my boyfriend.” She shifted in her seat, her cheeks burning as she glanced out the window.

Elijah let her comment sink in, unable to hold back his smile any longer. He watched her for a moment, her head resting in her palm as she watched the horizon pass by. He gathered himself, turning his attention back to the road once more and reminding himself that it didn’t matter. “Forgive me,” he said. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Yes you did,” she stated matter-of-factly and turned to face him. “Truth is, I don’t know what Dean is…” she sighed.

He nodded, his jaw clenching as the elation he felt moments earlier dissipated. “Perhaps you’re right,” he admitted. “I did mean to pry…I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “It’s fine, Elijah. But I’m not talking boys with you,” she laughed uncomfortably. They sat in silence for a moment when she cleared her throat. “What about you?” She asked, struggling to keep her tone even. “Are you seeing anyone?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and she felt her heart sink at the thought of him moving on, despite it being what she had hoped for him all this time.

“There’s no one else,” he said after a few minutes, his words settling heavily in the car.

She felt relief, quickly followed by guilt and a sadness she couldn’t quite place. She was headed into dangerous territory with him, and when the radio buzzed quietly beneath their heavy silence she leaned forward, turning it up.

“I love this song,” she said as Halsey’s voice filled the car.

She leaned back into her seat, letting the music distract her as she watched the horizon zip by them.

*****

_A few hours later Y/N woke to find the car parked at a gas station, Elijah nowhere in sight. She sat up, stretching her stiff muscles, taking in her surroundings as she blinked the sleep from her eyes. A neon sign that read “Harri’s Place” buzzed across the street, tinting the pavement red._

_She yawned, and as she reached her hand to her face to push her hair behind her ears she stopped, seeing the blood dripping down her hand._

_Confused, she furrowed her brow, bringing her other hand up to find it, too, was drenched in blood. She began to panic, anxiously feeling around her, leaving traces of it all around, smearing it on her pants and shirt, but there was too much to wipe away._

_She pulled down the visor to see herself in the mirror, the warm red liquid coating her chin and neck._

_She reached for her seat belt, struggling with the buckle when she saw Elijah in the driver’s seat, lifeless beside her._

_She paused, the air trapped in her lungs until she let it out and gasped for breath, panic and worry overwhelming her._

_“Elijah!?” She pulled harder at the buckle until she managed to undo it, tears burning her eyes and she reached across the center console, tugging on him. “Elijah wake up!”_

_“You did this.”_

_The eerie voice shocked her, and she jumped back in her seat, looking down to see Elijah’s heart in her lap. She screeched as she brushed it away from her, desperate to get it away._

_She caught her reflection in the side view mirror, her pupils red and angry. More than that, they were narrowed, and despite her panic, her reflection smiled diabolically, as if it was amused._

_“What are you?” She screamed at the glass._

_The reflection laughed, taunting her. “You can’t stop what’s coming,” it said._

_She struggled to get out of the car as fear seeped into her bones, running toward the small gas station when she heard Elijah’s voice calling her name._

*****

Y/N jolted up, gasping as she woke up and took in her surroundings. She frantically studied her hands, patting her body down and checking herself in the mirror. She turned, looking for evidence of what she had just seen - what had felt so _real_ only a moment ago.

“Y/N?” Elijah furrowed his brow with concern, reaching out and placing his hand on her face. She jumped, turning to face him, and clutched his hand to her. She reached out to his chest with her free hand, and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her when she leaned into him.

Her breathing began to calm as she concentrated on the feel of him under her hands - solid and real… _alive_.

He leaned back, cupping her face in his hands, studying her as he waited for her explanation.

She closed her eyes, concentrating on the weight of his hands on her face, his thumb gently tracing a path along her cheek. “Sorry,” she whispered. “Bad dream.”

He nodded, releasing his hold on her as she pulled away, sitting in her seat once more. He watched her carefully, as if he was waiting for a clue as to what was really happening, but she offered nothing.

She buckled her seatbelt once more. “We should keep moving,” she said.

He nodded, pulling back onto the road as she lost herself in her phone.

They drove in silence for twenty minutes when she let out a frustrated sigh.

“Elijah, I can practically feel you watching me,” she complained.

He had been sneaking glances at her when he was sure she wasn’t looking, watching for any sign of distress. “I’m worried about you,” he said.

“It was a dream. That’s it. Comes with the job.”

“The job of a hunter,” he clarified sharply.

She clenched her jaw. She had been waiting for him to bring it up - for this to be an argument, but she was not going to have it locked inside a car with him while they still had a few hundred miles left until they hit Mystic Falls. “That would be the one…” she said, lacing a little more attitude in her voice than necessary.

He gripped the steering wheel, deciding to let it go for the time being when he saw a gas station up the road. “We need gas,” he said as her stomach grumbled. “And you need food.”

“What about you?” She asked. “Any hospitals nearby? We can snag you a couple blood bags.”

“I assure you, I’ll be fine,” he said dryly.

She nodded, and when they pulled into the gas station she hopped out of the car eagerly. It felt good to stretch her muscles, and she didn’t wait as she made her way inside the little shop.

The bell above the door dinged as she stepped inside, the cashier greeting her with little more than a nod. She walked up and down the aisles, grabbing snacks for the road when the bell above the door jingled again.

“Not exactly the nutritious meal I had in mind,” Elijah said with distaste as he looked down at her haul full of Cheetos, Oreos, and beef jerky.

She shrugged. “Not exactly a five star restaurant,” she countered, piling the snacks into his arms. “Hold these? I want to use the restroom before we get back on the road.”

He nodded, already putting them down when she turned away to exchange them for a yogurt and granola bar. “I’ll check out,” he called after her.

“There better be Oreos, Elijah,” she tossed over her shoulder knowingly.

He chuckled, picking the pack of cookies back up and taking it to the counter.

A few minutes later, Y/N stepped back out into the parking lot and hopped in the car. She took a deep breath, still trying shake the uneasy feeling her nightmare had left her.

She looked around, deciding Elijah must have decided to use the restroom himself, when she caught sight of a red glow out of the side of her eye.

She turned to see the pavement across the street bathed in red from the neon light flickering above it.

_“Harri’s Place”_

She felt the panic wash over her and immediately checked her reflection in the mirror, relief flooding her to find it was her own.

She jumped when Elijah opened the car door.

“Everything okay?” He asked.

She nodded, but when his hands moved to grip the steering wheel she noticed his daylight ring was missing. She furrowed her brow for a moment as her mind raced for an explanation, her instincts kicking in. “Yea, sorry. You know what? I actually have to call Dean,” she said, careful to keep her voice even. “Phone’s dead, but I think I saw a pay phone on the side of the building…”

She opened the car door, not waiting for him to answer, when he reached across, gripping the door handle and slamming it shut.

“Dean can wait,” he said. “We should really get going.”

She swallowed, knowing this intruder wasn’t Elijah, and when he turned forward once more she used all the strength she had to slam his forehead into the steering wheel.

His head cracked, blood cascading down his features, and he turned angry eyes on Y/N as she scrambled to get out of the car. Her hands slipped on the handle, and he grabbed her by her hair, pulling her back in.

She used the momentum to fling her head back, and she heard the crunch of the bone when she made contact with his nose. She turned so her back was to the door, her hair out of his reach, and wasn’t surprised to see the gash on his head heal and his nose set right once more.

He lunged at her, an animalistic snarl escaping his lips as he reached for her, but she threw her legs out, kicking him away as hard as she could. Her back slammed into the door, popping it open, and she fell out onto the pavement with a thud.

She turned quickly, gravel digging into the palms of her hands as she pushed herself up. She stumbled and caught herself, not turning back as she burst into a full sprint toward the side of the building.

She stopped when she saw the dumpster - a rusty pipe leaning against the bins. She grabbed it quickly, knowing it wasn’t enough, but it’d have to do.

She turned so her back was against the brick of the building, bracing herself, calming her breathing as she listened. She clenched her jaw, and as she heard the footsteps move closer she gripped the pipe tighter in her hands.

He turned the corner and she swung, knocking him to the ground. She didn’t hesitate, jumping on top of him and pinning him there, swinging the pipe again. Blood sprayed across her face as she continued to swing. Elijah groaned underneath her, but he turned his face again and again, looking her in eye with a smile that made her blood boil.

She held the pipe against his throat. “Who sent you?” She growled.

He did nothing but laugh as his eyes shifted gold and back to the warm shade of summer she knew Elijah’s to be.

She hated the creature beneath her - for hunting her, for mimicking Elijah. For the way he chuckled darkly, and the need to hurt him he invoked in her. She let the rage wash through her and she picked the pipe up, holding it above her head and slamming the end into his chest as hard as she could, piercing him.

He gasped, his eyes darkening and his mouth filling with blood as he coughed. She felt him writhe beneath her and she pushed harder as she pulled the pipe sharply to the side. She knew it wouldn’t kill him. She had met enough shapeshifters to know how to spot one. Apart from removing the head or the heart you needed silver to end one.

“Who?” She demanded.

He slammed his eyes shut and when he opened them again they were bright red. His face twisted unnaturally, as if the expression wasn’t his own.

When he spoke, he choked on his own blood, and his voice was gravelly. “You can’t stop what’s coming,” he taunted.

She reached into the wound in his chest, gripping his heart and pulling desperately with everything she had. He dropped his head back, his eyes turning yellow once more and his body going lax as she released her grip on him.

She stood, dropping the disgusting organ and panting. As she reached up to move her hair out of her face she saw the blood on her hands, dripping down her arm and onto the pavement beneath her.

She started to shake, and when she felt a strong grip spin her around she swung, ready to fight once more.

Elijah caught her fist with ease, his free hand brushing her hair aside. “I thought you may be in need of some help,” he glanced over her shoulder at the body before him. “I can see I was mistaken.”

She glanced down to his chest, a bloody hole in his shirt indicated he had been staked, and she flung herself into his arms, wrapping her own around his neck.

He held her to his chest, and when she pulled away again he let go reluctantly. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Yea…”

Elijah furrowed his brow as he studied the corpse that resembled him.

“Shapeshifter.”

“Come,” he said. “We need to move.”

She nodded, dragging the corpse of the shapeshifter to the dumpster. He watched her hoist the body into the opening, as if she had done it a thousand times, and he saw just how much she had changed. She was harder now, stronger, even unattached. He felt a sadness that the world had done this to her, that he played a part in it, but he couldn’t help but also be in awe of her.

She wiped her bloody hands against her shirt, and as they walked back to the car, she stripped it off and cleaned her face with the fabric as best as she could, too tired to care about her ex seeing her, let alone anyone else. They were in the middle of nowhere, not that it mattered. Elijah unlocked the car, pulling out one of his spare button down shirts he had and offering it to her.

“Thank you,” she said, taking the garment from his hands. “I’ll have it cleaned,” she added when she saw some of the remaining blood she hadn’t managed to clean off seep into the light blue if the fabric.

“It’s yours,” he replied.

She clutched the extra fabric of the arms in her hands. It was too big, but it smelled like Elijah, and she let it wrap around her senses, grounding her after the rush of adrenaline she just had.

He opened her car door, and she hesitated for just a moment. Long enough for him to reach into his pocket. “I almost forgot,” he remarked. He handed her a pack of Oreo cookies.

She took the cookies in her hand with an exasperated sigh and a hint of a smile. “Five star dining.”

 


	10. Chapter Ten

"What do you got Cas?" Y/N answered, putting her phone on speaker so Elijah could listen in while driving.

"We found a way to defeat Empusa," the angel replied, his voice gruff.

She sat up in her seat, anxious to hear good news. "That's great," she exclaimed.

She listened as Cas sighed and her heart sunk. "It's not that easy," he explained. "We need something called the soul stone."

She furrowed her brow. "The soul stone? As in Thanos?" It sounded ridiculous, and like there was no hope left after all.

"That's what Dean said," Cas replied. "I've had no luck tracking this Thanos down, so if you know something..."

"What? No, never mind it's a reference..." she took a deep breath, trying to be patient with him. "You know what, just forget it."

Elijah ignored the angel's ignorance to pop culture, eager to get the conversation back on track. "What do we know about the soul stone?" He asked.

"It's ancient, dating back even before the archangels. The last known existence was rumor of a fragment over a thousand years ago. It won't kill her, but if what they say is true, we could cage her again."

Freya's voice cut in. "Elijah, even if we track it down, there's no guarantee that it will work, or that we'll know how to use it. It's used in a spell. We know better than anyone that magic comes at a price - the soul stone is only one piece of the puzzle."

"Keep me updated," he dismissed, ending the call. He thought to himself for a moment, and Y/N knew he was already forming a plan as he pressed on the gas.

*****

Dean looked around the entryway, surprised to find it warm and inviting. He stepped further in, and when he turned he was surprised Stefan was able to step inside as well.

Stefan ignored Dean's narrowed eyes, moving through the house and turning on lights. He obviously knew his way around.

"So can any of you come in?" Dean asked curiously.

Sam nudged his brother, trying to remind him to be polite. "Dean," he warned.

Stefan led them into the large kitchen. "It's alright," he said. "And to answer your question, only those of us who have been invited in. This was, or _is_  I guess, Y/N's place..."

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise. He didn't know she had a home of her own outside of the bunker. "But she invited you all in?" Dean asked again.

Stefan nodded. "Most of us."

Dean rolled his eyes and scoffed as he took in the kitchen. He was grateful he didn't have to stay at the Salvatore Boarding House, he wasn't sure he could rest in a house full of vampires and witches - but knowing they could come and go here as they pleased didn't do much to ease his mind.

"There's two guest rooms upstairs - I stocked the fridge for you guys, so if you're hungry at all help yourselves. I'm sure Y/N would agree, make yourselves at home."

Sam gave him a tight smile. "Thanks," he said.

Stefan nodded and made his way to the door, leaving the Winchesters to themselves with a promise of seeing them the next day.

Dean relaxed when the vampire was gone. Stefan seemed like a good enough guy, but he didn't want to let his guard down too much.

He opened the fridge, pleased to find lunch meat and beer.

Perhaps Stefan was okay after all.

"Dean," Sam cleared his throat. "I'm starting to feel like we don't know Y/N at all."

Dean tossed ingredients onto the kitchen island and shrugged, careful not to react so Sam didn't catch on to what was going on between them before he even had a chance to define it himself. "Yea, I know what you mean," he sighed struggling to keep his tone even.

Sam moved to the fridge, glancing at pictures and memories she had never mentioned. Photos of Y/N laughing with friends, some he recognized, others he didn't. He pulled a strip of photos of Y/N with Elijah, laughing and making goofy faces. He studied it for a moment before turning it around for Dean to see.

"I don't know how that's the same guy..." Sam pointed out.

Dean rolled his eyes, continuing to pile on lunch meat.

"Come on, Dean," Sam pushed. "Doesn't this bother you? She had a whole life here, a whole life in New Orleans...and she didn't bother mentioning it to us?"

Dean shrugged. "We had a life, too," he said dryly.

Sam shook his head. "Not like this," he argued. "Look at her, she looks happy," Sam tossed the photostrip to Dean. "It just doesn't make sense...."

He picked it up, his chest aching at the girl laughing in the photos. She did look happy. He had never seen her smile that way. "Yea, alright?" Dean shoved the photo back at Sam. "It bothers me more than you know. But what do you want me to do about it?" He snapped. He didn't wait for an answer, leaving Sam and his sandwich behind as he stormed out of the kitchen.

His little brother was right - someone who had all of _this_ , a home, family, friends...

Even if it was with a bunch of vampires she was clearly loved, and happy.

Someone like that didn't just give it all up.

He clenched his jaw, anger bubbling in his chest. He was angry at her, at Elijah, Klaus, his brother for pushing...he felt angry at the whole damn world.

He knew deep down the person he was most angry at was himself - for loving her, for holding onto her knowing he'd never be able to offer her this life. It was selfish, but he couldn't stop.

He found himself in what he assumed was her old bedroom, but he didn't bother turning on the lights. He took a seat in the bay window, and immediately he could picture her there, curled up in the sunlight reading a book, watching the day pass by with ease.

She'd never have that as a hunter.

He sighed and pulled out his phone, dialing, needing to hear her voice.

It rang twice when her voice came through.

"Hey, you've reached Y/N - you know what to do...." The beep that followed was shrill and for a moment he thought about hanging up, but he lingered.

He cleared his throat, suddenly nervous. "Y/N...it's me, uhh Dean. Just calling to check in," he cringed at his words, sounding like a clingy boyfriend. "I mean, just...I don't know," he sighed. "I guess I just needed to hear your voice," he let out a breath. Well there it was - no going back now. "Truth is, I can't stop thinking about you. About us. And I know when I left things were kind of up in the air, but I just wanted to call and tell you that I..."

Beeeeeeep the noise cut him off, followed by an automated message. "If you'd like to send your voicemail, please press one. If you'd like to re-record your message, press two. If you'd like to delete your recording and start over, please press three."

He sighed before hitting three on his phone, and hanging up.

*****

Y/N glanced over at Elijah. "What are you doing?" She asked as he pulled into the parking lot of a hotel.

"You need to rest, and I have a connection nearby that may be able to help us. We'll go see them in the morning," he said definitively.

She sighed. "We need to get to Mystic Falls," she argued.

He said nothing as he pulled up to the valet, getting out and opening her door. He held his hand out to help her, but she ignored it, pushing past him in frustration, pulling out her duffle bag and gripping it tightly to her.

"Welcome to the Ritz," a valet greeted. "I can take your bags," he offered, reaching for her duffle.

She pulled it out of his grasp when he insisted, but Elijah stepped forward. "That won't be necessary," he said, handing him the keys to the vehicle to be parked.

The boy nodded, glancing over Elijah's shoulder at the car and Y/N could see the light in his eyes at the thought of driving it. Elijah ignored it, placing his hand on the small of Y/N's back and leading her inside, taking the bag from her hands politely.

"Who is your mysterious contact?" She asked.

"An old acquaintance," he replied, cutting her off as he approached the front desk.

She looked around them, uncomfortable being in only yoga pants and his dress shirt (which was now stained with blood) in the gorgeous lobby. Her hair was dirty, and she was sure she still had blood on her by the way the concierge looked at her. "Elijah, I think we should keep moving," she suggested in a hushed tone.

He ignored her as he compelled the concierge to give them a room, despite them not having a reservation, and fifteen minutes later they were being escorted upstairs to a suite, the staff having no recollection of them when Elijah was done. She stepped inside the room and glanced around. The decor was sleek and modern, the neutral greys leaving everything looking crisp and clean. It had been a long time since she had stayed anywhere that didn't have a vacancy sign flashing out front.

She wandered further into the suite, through the master bedroom and into the next doorway, running her hands along the cool marble of the bathroom counter. The tub was deep, with a standing shower that offered shower heads along the wall in addition to the traditional one above.

"You should wash up," Elijah said.

She turned to find him leaning in the doorway, his sleeves rolled up and the top buttons of his shirt undone.

"I'll order room service," he added. "I promised you five star dining, after all." He gave her a soft smile, and her stomach flipped at just how painfully gorgeous he was.

She nodded, swallowing nervously. She needed to tell him about her connection to Empusa - her dreams, or premonitions - whatever they were. "Elijah," she began, but he shook his head.

"Shower first, we'll talk later." He turned, shutting the door behind him and leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She glanced at herself in the mirror, the hair along the right side of her temple matted with sweat and blood. Her forearms and palms were scraped from the pavement, and she was sure her knees looked the same. More than anything though, she noticed the bags under her eyes, the dark circles. Souvenirs left behind from her restless nights. She sighed, stripping off the shirt she had borrowed from Elijah, clutching it to her chest for a moment as she breathed in his scent. Tears sprung to her eyes almost immediately, an ache in her chest at how much she missed him, even though he was just in the other room.

She dropped the shirt to the floor, discarding the rest of her clothes and her shoes with it before turning to the shower. She let the heat of the spray pound against her skin, washing away the day. She wanted to get to the others as soon as possible, but she couldn't help but think how nice it was to just stop for a moment. She was safe, for now.

Her thoughts strayed to Elijah, how easy it had been to be with him for the day. How quickly they fell into conversation, and yet how distant it all seemed. She was holding back with him, building walls as he chipped away at them without even trying. Everything had been on the surface, because she was so afraid to dig any deeper and have it all torn from her once again.

She thought about the morning, and how they had a moment of peace, even if it was a dream. A glimpse at a life she had missed and longed for so badly it physically hurt.

She wondered if Elijah had really been there...

When she stepped out of the shower, her clothes were gone, a towel was laid out for her along with a fluffy white robe.

She blushed at the thought of Elijah being in the room without her knowing, her skin heating and her heart racing. She dried off, pulling on the plush white oversized robe and wrapping it around her body, tying it shut. She towel dried and combed her hair, stepping back out into the bedroom to find herself alone.

Her bag was on the chair, but her clothes were gone. She didn't mind, the robe was more than comfortable, and she would live in it if she could.

When she stepped back into the living room, Elijah was at the door in his own robe, tipping the staff who had just rolled in a cart of food. Far too much food just for the two of them, especially considering Elijah wouldn't eat much if at all. When he dismissed them he turned, his chocolate eyes scanning her.

She averted her gaze, blushing under his stare.

"I sent our clothes to be cleaned," he explained. "They'll be back by morning."

She held her arms out, twirling playfully as she tried to make light of the situation. "I don't know," she chuckled. "I think I'm going to make this an everyday thing. It'll catch on, don't you think?"

His eyes darkened, and he swallowed. When he spoke, his voice was low and rough. "You're beautiful."

She stopped spinning, her face serious. They stood there for a moment in silence, Elijah's words settling heavily over them, and she was sure he could hear her heart rate pick up, a fact she tried to ignore.

He broke his stare, turning and taking off the covers to the plates he had ordered.

She stepped forward, eyeing up the food. Salad, some fruit, grilled chicken...she smiled thinking of Sam's healthy habits, but her stomach growled. She looked at Elijah, and he rolled his eyes playfully. "You doubt me," he teased, pulling a lid off of another plate to reveal chicken fingers and french fries.

She grinned, reaching for the plate greedily. She breathed in the heavenly smell, and couldn't help the groan that escaped her lips. She was starving. "Oh my god, I love you," she said.

They both froze as she caught herself, her cheeks burning. She was grateful when he cleared his throat and busied himself with the remainder of the food, putting it all away in the kitchen and pouring her a glass of water.

"What about you?" She asked.

He handed her the water and she took it gratefully. "What about me?"

She shrugged as if it were obvious. "You need blood."

"I'll be fine," he replied.

She pushed her food aside, suddenly not hungry. "No," she said shaking her head. "You were bitten by a wolf, vervained, and you haven't had a drop of blood. You need your strength."

"I can assure you I will be alright until we get to Mystic Falls. Please, eat."

She took a bite, but she was already past the point of eating. "You can have some of mine," she said.

"While I appreciate the offer, I don't think chicken fingers would suffice," he said dryly.

She rolled her eyes, moving until she stood in front of him, and held up her wrist. "That's not what I meant."

He held her wrist gently, his thumb feeling the blood pump through the vein there. He was hungry, there was no denying it, but more than that he craved _her_. His eyes locked onto hers, his jaw set. "I am well aware of what you meant," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

She didn't back down, holding his gaze defiantly.

"You need rest," he said, moving her wrist away and stepping back from her. "Goodnight, Y/N."

She nodded, biting her lip, and as he turned to go she called out for him. "Elijah?"

He stopped, turning his face to indicate he was listening.

"I have nightmares," she whispered. She let out a soft embarrassed chuckle when he turned around to really look at her, his brow furrowed. "It's a hunter thing, I guess," she added, holding back the fact that she couldn't tell what was real and what was a product of her own mind anymore. Her connection with Empusa - whatever it was - shook her to her core, but she clung to the hope that it had been a coincidence. As if speaking it out loud would make it a reality.

Elijah took a step closer, his mouth opening to say something, but no words came out, so she continued. "It's just that, I have nightmares. But last night...the nightmares didn't come when I was with you," she said, her voice shaking nervously.

He stood, waiting for her to say exactly what she needed, because he'd only do what she asked. Hope swelled in his chest, and his eyes begged her for the words - the pause in her breath seemingly lasting for a lifetime.

"Stay with me tonight?" She breathed.

He nodded slowly, stepping into her and she took his hand, leading him to the bedroom.

He stayed silent as he watched her ready herself for bed.

She searched through her bag, pulling out her toothbrush and disappearing into the bathroom. She left the door cracked, and he watched a routine he had seen a thousand times before, his heart clenching at the ease and familiarity.

Her phone began to vibrate and he wondered if it was all she'd need to be pulled out of the moment and change her mind. She stepped out of the bathroom, pulling her phone out and glancing at the screen before hitting reject and tucking it back in the pocket of her duffle.

She crawled onto the oversized mattress, pulling the covers back as he slid in behind her. She wrapped his arms around her midsection, scooting back into him. "Thank you," she whispered.

He kissed her temple sweetly. "Always." He listened as her breathing evened out, sleep taking her before he closed his own eyes and entered her mind.

*****

_Y/N sat on the balcony of their bedroom, watching the night sky. The stars shone brightly, and the streets below were peaceful. "You've outdone yourself," she laughed when she felt his presence behind her._

_He chuckled, glancing up at the crisp, clear stars from the doorway. He leaned against the frame and busied himself with his hands as he glanced around this dream version of their home._

_She stood and leaned back against the balcony railing, facing him. He was in sleek grey suit, a crisp white shirt that matched his ever present pocket square. His maroon tie was bold and perfectly in place, and she couldn't help but smile. She glanced down at her robe. "I feel underdressed," she remarked._

_He shrugged, a smile playing on his lips and when she looked back down she was in a short lace dress that dipped low on her chest, the maroon contrasting against her soft skin._

_"Would you look at that?" She twirled and the skirt flew high against her thighs, revealing her skin to him, causing his thoughts to drift into a less than noble territory. "I even match your tie..."_

_"Yes, well," he forced his eyes to travel up, though they took their time, until he met her own. "I have excellent taste."_

_She rose an eyebrow at him coyly and turned away from him, leaning against the rail and looking up at the stars once more. "It's quiet," she said. "New Orleans is never this quiet."_

_He stepped behind her, his arms resting on either side of her, caging her in. "It was always just the two of us," his breath fanned across her neck, sending shivers down her spine. "I never heard the noise when we were here."_

_She spun around in his arms so she faced him, and his eyes darted to her lips for a moment before being drawn to hers once more, and she noticed they darkened._

_Somewhere a warning bell went off in her head, but surely she could have this moment, a ghost of a dream. She placed her hands on his chest, feeling the muscle jump beneath her fingertips as she leaned up and closed the distance between them._

_The kiss was soft, hesitant, as if neither one of them was sure it would last. When they parted their eyes met, his searching._

_She leaned up, kissing him again, her arms snaking around his neck. His hands remained firmly on the railing behind her. She knew he was holding on to what little control remained, and when he breathed her name against her lips, she paused. She kept her eyes shut, afraid it would all disappear if she opened them._

_"Y/N...."_

_She felt the pain of the rejection sharply, even knowing it was for the best. It stung and she pulled back, looking at the man before her. Even if they had this, he would be hers, but for how long? A night? She couldn't have him and the unfairness of it all made her feel heavy._

_Elijah watched as the hurt appeared in her Y/E/C eyes, and he hated himself more than he already did. He knew it would change nothing for her, that the only thing they had left was a stolen moment in a dream he had given her. He felt the little bit of control he clung to slipping away, something that often happened where she was concerned, and he dropped a hand to her hip, squeezing hard._

_Her eyes shot up to his and he stepped into her, pressing his body against hers, the pain he had learned to live with and come to know so well waning away as relief washed through him at the feel of her._

_His mind was made up, the illusion of him having a choice fading rapidly, and he knew there was no turning back for either of them as his mouth crashed to hers. His free hand came up to the back of her neck, holding her impossibly close as his tongue begged for entrance._

_She moaned, giving into him._

_He dipped low, picking her up so she wrapped her legs around him, and he used his speed to push her against the opposite wall, desperate to have her._

_She cried out, arching her back and pulling at his tie. He hiked her skirt up and pulled the top of her dress down roughly, tearing the fabric and revealing her breasts to him. His kissed down her neck, nipping and teasing along the way, hiking her higher as he dipped lower to kiss her chest._

_Her fingers wrapped in his chestnut hair, pulling at the short strands as he pulled a nipple into his mouth, sucking as she cried out. She pressed further into him, knowing it would never be enough._

_She used what little leverage she had to drag her hips against him, searching for pressure, and he sped them inside of their room, crashing into the vanity._

_She gripped the edges of the wood, white knuckled as he sunk to his knees, hiking her skirt and kissing up her thighs. He left a trail of fire against her skin, and she leaned back onto her elbows, watching as he nipped and licked everywhere but where she needed most. She panted, her fingers once again curling in his hair, silently begging._

_He put her out of her misery, burying his face between her legs and licking between her folds. She cried out instantly, and he hummed into her, lapping up everything she gave him._

_His tongue skillfully danced against her clit, and when he added the pressure of his fingers she flew off the edge, slamming her eyes shut as she saw stars._

_He licked her gently, working her through her orgasm until she came back down. He stood slowly, and she sat up, pulling him toward her until he tilted his head down so she could taste herself on his lips._

_The urgency from before shifted, though the need lingered heavily. He kissed her slowly, sweetly, as if they had all the time in the world._

_She hummed into the kiss, feeling sated and content. She pushed on his chest and he backed away, giving her room to stand. She stripped the scrap of her dress away slowly, letting it drop to her feet before gently kicking it away along with her shoes._

_She stood before him, bare, and though he had seen her a thousand times before, she suddenly felt raw._ _She was not the same woman she had been when they were together, for better or worse. She let his eyes trail over her, and he catalogued every scar, every single badge from her hunts. He let the ink under her skin, the anti-possession tattoo, that sat against her hip burn into his memory, wanting to relearn every piece of her._

_For a moment she worried he'd no longer find her desirable, and she hid her face, turning away from him._

_He stepped forward, his thumb tracing the jagged line along her ribs. She winced slightly, remembering the hunt that had left it, how close she had been to dying - how in what she had thought were her final moments she only saw Elijah._

_He tilted her chin toward him with his free hand until she looked at him, and when her eyes met his, she was surprised to find a lack of pity. She saw a bit of guilt, but she had expected that. He carried the weight of the damn world on his shoulders._

_But more than that, she saw pride._

_"You're breathtaking," he breathed, his voice low and rugged._

_She reached for him, anxious to feel him again, needing his skin on hers as the urgency came back twofold. Her fingers pulled at his shirt buttons, fumbling as he ripped off his jacket and undid his belt._

_When he used his speed once more, she was surprised to find herself suddenly on the bed, sprawled out beneath him. He rid himself of the rest of his clothing, nestling himself between her legs as he kissed the spot just below her ear._

_He bit back the words that seemed to always be on the tip of his tongue with her, afraid he'd complicate things even more. Instead he put everything he had, everything he needed to say, into every kiss against her skin. He breathed them into her, his desire and devotion ghosting across her skin with each press of his lips and nip of his teeth before he sealed them in with his tongue._

_She writhed beneath him, every nerve ending in her body on the surface, coming alive and reacting to his touch._

_He held himself above her, watching her face intently as he slid into her, bottoming out. They both groaned at the contact, keeping their eyes trained on each other. Elijah stilled, waiting for her to adjust to him._

_She leaned up, pressing her lips to his, silently begging him to move. He pulled away from her only to push back in, hitting her right where she needed it. She arched into him and threw her head back, and he took the opportunity to lean down and work her chest._

_She was different, yes - scarred and stronger - but as much as she wanted to deny it, he knew her. He knew every inch of her, the spots that made her come alive. He knew exactly what she needed when she needed it - things no one else since had taken the time to learn._

_Or maybe they were things she had never given enough time for someone else to learn, because deep down she knew it wouldn't change the fact that those places belonged to him._

_She belonged to him._

_His movements became faster, harder, and he reached between them, his fingers working her sweet spot until her walls tightened around him and she fell into bliss._

_She screamed his name, and he hadn't known just how much he missed hearing his name from her lips until that very moment, but he swore he'd never go without again._

_He rolled them so she was on top, sitting up and wrapping her legs around him. He buried his face in her neck, feeling like he was finally home._

_He kissed her, and she leaned her head back giving him more access. She was giving him permission, but he didn't take it. Instead he gripped her hips, moving her up and down on him once more, slowly building pressure._

_She threw her head back and slammed her eyes shut, listening to the moans that filled the room, the sound of their bodies meeting again and again. He brought one hand to her face, wordlessly urging her to look at him, and when she opened her eyes she found his dark and determined. They were deep and so sure, the deep browns swirling like a summer storm that anchored her there, and everything in the entire universe could have faded to only this and she'd still have everything she could possibly need._

_He thrust up into her, never breaking the eye contact, and she knew what he was saying. She was sure it was reflected back in her own gaze._

_She held onto him tightly, rolling her hips. She watched his eyes haze with more lust, as his own release approached. His jaw tightened and she knew he was close, so she kept up her pace, desperate to make him feel even a fraction of what she felt for him._

_She gripped his face, slamming her lips to him, and he kissed her back roughly until his movements stilled, his breath filling her lungs and he came, filling her completely. It was enough to push her over the edge for a third time with a force she had never experienced before._

_She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, her muscles loose and spent. Her limbs curled around him lazily, and his fingers traced soft patterns against her spine, his lips pressing into her shoulder again and again._

_They stayed like that for a long time, just feeling each other - too tired to move even if they had wanted to._

_After a while, when she began to drift, Elijah gently rolled her off of him, and they groaned at the loss. He went with her, curling himself around her and pulling her to his chest. His fingers found her hair, tracing through it as he listened to her breathing._

_"I've missed you," she whispered so low he wasn't sure he was meant to hear it._

_He kissed her temple and she shifted, tilting her chin up so she was looking at him._

_"So serious," she teased as she traced the outline of his frown with her fingers._

_He smiled sadly, turning to look at her. "This isn't real," he replied, his voice hushed and broken. "It's just a dream."_

_She swallowed and nodded. "I know." She pressed a kiss into his chest. "But it's a beautiful dream..."_

_"It is. I don't want it to end," he confessed._

_She sighed longingly. "Then let's just stay here," she curled into him, throwing her leg over his and her arms around his torso._

_He kissed her temple once more, continuing to run his hand through her hair. "Okay," he whispered._

_She hummed sleepily into his skin, and soon after she drifted off and away from him once more._

 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Y/N slipped out of bed as the sun rose, a pastel kaleidoscope of colors spilling into the hotel room. She was quiet, trying not to wake Elijah, though she was sure that wouldn’t last long.

She grabbed her phone from her bag and stepped out into the living room, careful to keep her steps light. She curled up onto the oversized chair in the corner, flipping through her notifications.

Dozens of texts from Caroline complaining about Klaus’ heroic efforts, which she referred to as ‘kidnapping’; a text from Sam with a general update (which hadn’t included any new information); and a missed call from Dean.

Her heart sank.

He hadn’t left a voicemail, and she wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. She wondered what he would have said and what he thought about her life. The life she had left behind, the life she hadn’t shared with him or his brother. The one he was fully immersed in now.

It felt like her worlds were colliding, while her heart was being torn in two.

She put her phone on the coffee table and watched the sunrise over the city skyscrapers from the floor-to-ceiling windows across the room. She thought back to the last time she had seen the sunrise.

*****

_“Come on, Y/N, I’m freaking exhausted….” Dean grumbled._

_She rolled her eyes. “You turn into a toddler when you’re tired,” she laughed. “Twenty minutes, that’s it.”_

_He sighed and nodded in defeat, hopping up onto the hood of the Impala next to her. They had finished a hunt, and the evidence was all over them. Clothes tattered, skin bruised, eyes tired._

_But she loved the sunrise._

_She shivered beside him, the chill of the early morning air seeping into her bones. He shrugged his jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders, and she turned to him and smiled softly, too exhausted to speak, but she didn’t need to._

_The silence stretched before them as they waited, and as the minutes passed she scooted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. Dusty pinks and pale yellows began to crack through the deep blues the night sky had left behind, the sun rays cracking through and spilling over the horizon._

_She had insisted the little dirt road she had stumbled upon the day before was the best spot, and as the light broke through the dawn he couldn’t deny she was right._

_“Damn,” he admitted quietly. He had seen his fair share of sunrises (mostly he caught them because he hadn’t gone to bed yet), but this one had been exceptionally stunning. Maybe it was the calm after a long hunt, or the way this particular spot overlooked the trees, giving them the perfect view. Maybe it was the way the soft colors slowly became more saturated, their brilliance washing over the tree line._

_But as Y/N’s breath deepened and he turned to find she had drifted off, he was sure it had nothing to do with the sun and everything to do with her._

_He sat like that for a long time, until the quiet gave way to the noise of everyday routine, and he nudged her awake and drove her home._

_*****_

“Coffee?” Elijah asked from the doorway.

She jumped, falling back into the present with a jolt.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said with a half smile.

She blushed as the memories of the night before rushed back in. “Coffee sounds good,” she said, her voice much more timid than she had intended.

He nodded and she heard him moving in the small kitchen, task at hand. After a few minutes the smell of coffee began to waft through the hotel room.

She stood and made her own way to the kitchen, anxious for caffeine. They moved around each other carefully, exchanging shy smiles and stealing glances. Elijah watched her carefully when she wasn’t looking, but it didn’t matter, she felt his eyes on her - heavy and  eager to know what was going through her mind.

When their eyes would meet, she’d glance away quickly. His deep brown eyes melted into golden rays as the sun hit them, and she couldn’t bear to look at them, so sure she’d find a promise in them when all she would ever be able to give him was a goodbye.

She moved past him with the intention of pouring herself another cup of coffee, but as she did, he turned to get the creamer and she was pinned between the counter and his frame. She stilled, and the closeness between them felt charged, Elijah’s focus drifting towards her lips.

The corners of his lips turned up, and she wished she could lose herself in him forever, but she cleared her throat and he stepped back, a silent apology on his face.

She turned away from him, pouring another cup, when he spoke.

“How did you sleep?”

Her nerves got the best of her at the mention of the night before, and she jumped nervously, spilling hot coffee on her hand. “Shit!” She hissed, quickly shaking it off and reaching for a rag.

He turned the faucet on in the sink and reached for her, pulling her into him and holding her hand under the cool water.

He remained close, but released his hold as he turned off the water and pulled a clean towel from beside her, using it to carefully pat her hand dry.

He concentrated on her hand, examining it closely until he was satisfied it was nothing and she insisted she was okay.

When he looked up, their eyes locked, once again drawn into each other like gravity.

He tucked her hair behind her ear, his thumb stroking her cheek gently. “We should discuss last night,” he said.

She bit her lip, and as she opened her mouth to speak there was a soft knock at the door.

They both remained rooted to the spot, eyes locked, as if they knew once they moved they’d lose the moment. She pondered for a second, weighing her options, and realizing she had none. All of her moments with Elijah were stolen, because they all held the same outcome. Her circumstances hadn’t changed - it would always end in heartbreak for both of them.

As she let that reality sink in, she made the decision for him, pulling away and breaking their trance.

She wasn’t sure if it was hurt flashing across his features or her own heartache reflecting in his eyes, but she turned back to the coffee before she could interpret it.

He disappeared without a word, going to the door and returning a moment later, their clean clothes in hand. He placed hers on the counter. “We should go,” he stated. “We have a stop to make before heading to Mystic Falls.”

“Your friend?” She asked, remembering his brief mention of a contact the night before.

He nodded. “A very old friend.”

*****

When Elijah had said “old friend”, Y/N hadn’t anticipated the young, small mouse-like man that had bolted at the sight of the Original.

She shouldn’t have been surprised. The Mikaelson definition of friend was often misguided.

“Hello, Garrick,” Elijah hushed the man whose beady grey eyes were filled with fear.

The man - Garrick -  coughed as Elijah’s hand tightened on his throat. “How did you find me?” He stuttered out.

Elijah smirked knowingly. “You assume I ever lost you,” he said, loosening his grip and releasing the poor man.

Garrick rubbed at his neck, glancing over Elijah’s shoulder where Y/N stood.

“I need a favor,” Elijah said, pulling Garrick’s attention back to him.

Garrick sighed defeatedly. “It’s never a favor as much as a demand now, is it?”

Elijah gave a small shrug, leaving the interpretation up to him, but Y/N knew he was right. Elijah was going to leave with the information he needed whether Garrick cooperated or not.

“What do you know of Empusa?”

Garrick laughed. “She’s nothing but an old legend.”

“Tell me,” Elijah insisted.

“Empusa thrived in the time of the Gods,” he sighed. “She became hungry for power, hunting those who possessed it, pulling it from their blood and leaving them as empty shells. But it was never enough. She craved to be as powerful as Zeus himself. She fed on the beasts he created, until one day, she was cast out. Imprisoned.” He told the story matter of fact, as if he had heard it a thousand times and it bored him.

“How?” Elijah demanded.

Garrick rolled his eyes. “They weakened her with a soul stone. The Gods created the stone held within a blade.”

“Where is the soul stone now?” Y/N asked, inching closer.

Garrick looked at her, his eyes narrowing, but nodded. “They gave it to the Keepers. Legend says a soul stone can destroy or create your worst nightmares. The Keepers used blood magic to protect the stone, trapping it in the veins of those deemed worthy to contain such power, passing it on through generations until it was lost through time forever.”

Elijah sighed. “I need you to find it.”

Garrick laughed once more. “There are things that even I can’t do, Elijah.”

Y/N moved forward. “Who are the Keepers?”

“Another legend,” the man dismissed with a wave of his hand.

“A legend, much like Empusa, that stands right before you,” Elijah added. “The stone,” he demanded.

Garrick shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Empusa was a bedtime story to scare children! She no longer walks this earth.”

“I can assure you, she does.”

Garrick’s face fell, and he glanced towards Y/N whose expression confirmed it. “Then I must insist you leave,” he growled.

Elijah smiled as if amused. “We will leave when we have what we need.”

“Please,” Y/N added, attempting to ease the man.

Garrick sighed. “Fine,” he growled. “But you,” he spat at Elijah. “Need to step outside. Give me space, I can’t concentrate while you crowd me!”

Elijah was about to protest when Y/N nodded. “He can listen from the entrance of the bar,” she suggested.

He glared at Y/N before moving to the edge of the establishment, a dusty dive bar Garrick called his pride and joy.

Garrick muttered under his breath, moving behind the bar and pouring himself a shot of whiskey.

“What’s a Keeper?” Y/N asked again, taking a seat across from him.

“A long time ago, I was. A bloodline of witches tasked with containing the darkest of magic. I’m the last of my kind,” he sighed.

“I’m sorry,” she offered.

He shrugged. “Like I said, it was a long time ago.”

Y/N studied him for a moment wondering just how old the man before her truly was.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” He threw back one more shot and shook out his shoulders. “I’m a little rusty, so I could use an anchor,” he held out his hands across the bar, indicating she should take them.

She glanced once at Elijah, who watched curiously from the other end, his jaw tight and expression dark. She offered him a slight nod, assuring him she was okay, and slid her hands into Garrick’s.

He began chanting, his eyes shut and the edison bulbs above the bar flickered. Y/N looked around the room, an unnatural breeze suddenly filling the space before everything went still once more.

Chills ran up her spine when she turned back to see Garrick’s eyes open, but in place of the sharp grey from a few moments ago there was a milky white.

His chanting stopped and he swayed ever so slightly before there was a dull pain in Y/N’s wrists. She winced as it began traveling up her veins, hitting her in her chest and stealing the air from her lungs.

“How long?” He finally asked.

She furrowed her brows. “How long what?”

“How long have you been seeing your visions?”

Her jaw dropped, words escaping her. Her first instinct was to deny it, but Garrick raised his eyebrows, daring her to lie. She turned her worried gaze towards Elijah, who immediately moved towards her before Garrick’s hand shot out, his fingers twisting as Elijah’s neck snapped, the crunching of bone an unsettling sound as he dropped to the ground in an instant. Y/N tried to get to him when the bar went foggy. Confused, she shouted for him.

“He can’t hear you,” Garrick said. “We don’t have much time. How long?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know!”

“They’ve been getting worse.”

She nodded anxiously, her eyes scanning the fog of the room while she tried to orient herself.

Garrick leaned in, pressing his fingers to her temples and it was all too much - ancient knowledge rushing in, a feeling of power overwhelming her - until it was suddenly nothingness. The bar returned to normal once more.

“It’s you,” the man whispered eerily, dropping his hands from her face and stepping back. “How?”

“I don’t understand,” the lines of her brows pulled together sharply as she tried to piece everything that had just transpired together.

“What remains of the stone is in your blood. Find the blade, and you can end it,” he spoke urgently.

She shook her head. “What does that mean?”

“Find the blade!”

Elijah was back on his feet having recovered from the snap of his neck, and then in a flash at the bar, his fist in Garrick’s chest.

“No!” Y/N shouted, but it was too late.

Garrick kept his gaze on her, nodding softly as he coughed on the blood that was quickly filling his lungs. “You will know…what you have…” another coughing fit, blood spattering along Elijah’s cheek. “…to do.” His eyes rolled into the back of his head and Elijah let go, his body dropping.

Y/N watched, feeling sorry for the man…sorry for herself. Because suddenly she understood - Garrick had showed her in a flash, and she knew somehow. She couldn’t explain how she knew, only that she did. She knew it in the very fiber of her being, suddenly sure.

She was the only one that could destroy Empusa.

*****

The drive back to Mystic Falls was only a few hours, but it felt like an eternity.

Elijah had pressed her, knowing her well enough to know she was holding back with him, _again_ , but she refused to give in - only telling him of the blade.

A blade they had no idea how to find.

She had hoped Cas had some luck tracing rumors back to a weapon that they could use.

In the meantime, she sat silently in the car next to a brooding Elijah who refused to speak to her. She sighed heavily, the quiet too tense, and so she flicked on the radio.

Elijah was quick to reach out, turning the music back off before she could even hear a note.

She slumped back into her seat, crossing her arms defiantly, ignoring his angry glare.

They drove like that a bit longer, both of them sitting in their frustration, anger building rapidly until Elijah finally pulled the car over onto a secluded side road, screeching to a halt and getting out with a slam of his door.

Y/N followed, slamming her own door as he began to walk down the road, her own steps struggling to keep up with his long, purposeful strides. “Seriously, Elijah?” She shouted when he rounded on her.

“Why did you come back?” He snapped.

The question took her by surprise and she drew back from him. “I told you, Klaus…”

He shook his head, cutting her off. “Why are you here?”

“You’re being ridiculous,” she rolled her eyes, deciding she wasn’t going to argue with him like this and stomping back to the car, but even as she turned he stood before her once more.

“Why did you come back?”

“To save you!” She shouted, her own frustration getting the best of her.

He stepped into her, forcing her to step back. “Why?” He demanded.

“Because, Elijah,” she snapped. “I don’t abandon the people I care about when they need me.” She shoved past him and he gripped her arm tightly, spinning her roughly.

“I needed you,” he growled. “I needed you, and you left me. No explanation, no goodbye. I needed you, and you abandoned me!”

She pulled at her arm, shoving him angrily as the tears burned in her eyes, but he held his grip, refusing to let go. “You think it was easy?” She yelled, her rage coursing through her veins. “I never wanted to leave, but I didn’t have a choice!”

“There is always a choice!”

“I couldn’t stay! If there was another way, believe me, I would have found it. I tried! But I’ve seen it, Elijah! I’ve seen how this ends for me, and it’s always the same!”

His grip loosened, and his brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” He asked, his voice low and controlled once more.

She stepped away from him, leaning back so she was resting against the car. She sighed and wiped angrily under her eyes. “I see things,” she whispered. “Things that are going to happen before they do. Visions, I guess…”

He slowly moved towards her, leaning carefully beside her and waiting patiently for her to continue.

“Not all the time. It was mostly small things at first,” she explained. “Almost like deja vu. And then it started happening on a larger scale. I’d have dreams that felt so real, I could almost reach out and touch them. At first I didn’t think anything of it, but then they’d come to pass eventually.” She took a deep breath, relief flooding in as her confession began to pour out. “I saw Hope,” she admitted. “Before she was born, I mean. And I saw your Aunt Dahlia, and I knew about Freya…”

“Why did you never say anything?” He asked, the accusatory tone she had been anticipating absent.

She turned to face him. “Because,” she cried. “Because I was scared.”

He nodded, but turned away, keeping his eyes forward.

“When I left, when I found Sam and Dean, my visions became less and less frequent. Mostly about hunting,” she added. “But now I see Empusa…”

“What is it you see when you’re with me?” He asked carefully.

She sighed. “I become a vampire. The closer I am to you, the more vivid the vision is.”

“And you don’t want to be a monster. Like me,” he added, walking away once more.

She shot up, chasing him, desperate to make her understand. “Elijah, you’re not a monster!” She pulled on his arm, urging him to turn around and face her. “ _But I am_.” She swallowed nervously as the words she had refused to speak out loud for so long were finally set free. “I become a ripper.”

He shook his head as if in denial. “No,” he whispered. “I would never let you become that.”

“It’s not up to you,” she whispered.

He stepped into her, gripping her face in his hands. “I gave you my word that I would protect you…”

She wrapped her fingers in his, pulling them away from her face and gripping them tightly, trying to reassure him before letting go. “You can’t protect me from myself.”

“You should have told me,” he said.

She nodded and bit her lip. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” she choked. “I just thought…I thought if I left it’d be easier for both of us.”

“And was it?” He asked. “Was it easier for you?”

She shook her head as the guilt she had felt rooted her to her spot.

“Do you have any idea how much I’ve longed for you?” He asked. “How many times you came to me? In a dream, in my darkest moments, I saw you, but I could never touch you.” He reached a hand out, stroking her cheek gently. “And now you’re right here. Right here in front of me and I still can’t get to you.”

Her chest tightened, and she reached for his other hand. “I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m real.” She pulled his hand up to her chest, splaying his palm out and clutching it to her so he could feel her heartbeat. “And I never stopped loving you.”

The hand that rested on her cheek moved to the back of her neck, pulling her in as he crashed his lips to hers desperately. She responded immediately, her own traitorous lips working against her as she sunk deeper into the kiss.

Their tongues clashed, and he walked her back until she was pressed to the side of the car, pinned between the hot metal and Elijah’s solid form.

“Elijah,” she gasped between breaths, and he paused, pulling in lungfuls of air, hoping to find a grip on his control once more.

She pushed lightly on his chest and he pressed his forehead to hers, panting. “I want you,” he whispered.

She gripped the lapels of his suit jacket, biting her lip as she held him there. There was no denying that she had wanted him, wanted _them_ , too. But they both knew this was only the beginning of an end. There would be no whispered promises of tomorrow. There’d only be this delicate moment, a pause, to say goodbye and find closure in soft touches. He nodded, his mind already made up and his jaw clenching as he realized just how much this would hurt. “I love you,” he whispered into her skin. “Always and forever.”

She kissed him sweetly. “Always and forever,” she promised. “That will never change.”

She moved, opening the back door of the car and sliding in, giving him a choice, but he followed without hesitation, climbing in next to her and watching her gaze intently.

When they kissed again it was soft and slow. His tenderness wasn’t a lack of passion or desire, but instead a warning of what he was holding back, as if to drag this goodbye out. One more prolonged moment in the hope that it may stretch on indefinitely.

He kissed her for what felt like hours, their hands roaming slowly, teasingly. He slowly stripped her of her clothes, his fingers tracing the lines of her body, his lips never leaving her skin for very long. His tongue teased her, tasted her. He memorized every inch of her skin, pulling her impossibly close, as if trying to pull her into himself, so he’d never have to let go.

She smiled, her eyes glossy as she fought off the mourning that she knew would come, instead anchoring herself in the now. She helped him out of his jacket, carefully removing his tie and undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one. The tips of her fingers felt hot against his skin, a burning that consumed every inch of him.

She undid his belt, carefully pushing his pants down and he pulled her onto his lap, desperate to feel her against him. He buried his face in the nape of her neck, his lips pressing against her pulse point. She rocked back slowly, dragging herself against him and he shuddered. She lifted carefully, and as her arms wrapped around him, she pulled him in closer.

She was giving him permission.

He breathed deeply, smelling the sweet blood that pounded just beneath her flushed skin.

As she sunk down on him he bit into her, his fangs puncturing her artery expertly. She winced, but the pain quickly turned to pleasure as he began to rock her, pulling her blood in the same rhythm they moved.

She opened herself up to him, and as he fed he felt everything. Every inch of her - blood, and flesh, and bone. Every space in her mind, every crevice of her soul. He let it consume him, and he gave her everything in return.

She cried out and as he released her she pulled his face up to hers, kissing him hard before pulling back so they could lock their gazes on one another.

He watched her face contort with pleasure as he pressed up into her, reaching deeper and deeper, his thrusts slow but hard. He cupped her backside, rolling her hips down and pressing her further, burying himself until they lost where he had ended and she began.

She cried out, her walls clamping down on him. He followed close behind, rocking up into her a few more times, and he shivered.

She ran her hands along the planes of his chest, and he held her close to him, their foreheads meeting. As they separated he cradled her, holding her to him, not ready to let go.

“Do you love him?” He whispered after a long while.

She didn’t answer for a long moment, and he wondered if she had drifted off, but she hummed quietly. “Yes,” she admitted. “Not the way I love you…but I don’t know that I can ever love anyone else that way.” She curled into him further, wrapping her arms around his neck. “But maybe one day it would be enough…”

He kissed her temple, and held her face, forcing her to look up at him. She began to cry, and he wiped her tears away gently, kissing her and holding her until she stopped.

They finally parted after some time, dressing slowly, deciding they had put off Mystic Falls long enough.

As they headed back out on the road, he held her hand and she realized that while her heart was broken, it was still with his.


End file.
